


Before, After and Everything In Between

by MoonbeamDancer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Past Lives, Reincarnation, girl!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 11:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonbeamDancer/pseuds/MoonbeamDancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of fleeing from the Trickster and the Tuesday that would not die, Dean begins to experience what he thinks are dreams. Different places, different names, different times, but all have the Trickster in them. And all end in pain and death. Is the Tuesday from Hell going to happen on a Wednesday?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Salem, Massachusetts 1692

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2013 Gabriel Big Bang on LJ. Set after "Mystery Spot", so this takes place in third season. Visit chosenfire28's journal to see the art.

Sam was the one who drove them out of the town that he had spent the better part of a year stuck in. He couldn't wait to see the back of it. A hundred Tuesdays will do that to a person and no one, not even Dean himself, was going to stop Sam from making sure his brother was safe.  
"Dude! Pull the _hell_ over and let me fucking drive!" Dean demanded from the passenger seat of the Impala.  
"No." Sam replied, glancing in the rear view mirror and pressing on the accelerator.  
"Sam!"  
"No, Dean. Not now." Sam grit out, putting as many miles as he could between the two of them and the town from Hell. Or rather, the thing that had kept them in it.  
" _Fucking Tricksters._ " he thought as the Impala ripped down the road.

After several hours of driving and putting a few states behind them, Sam pulled into the parking lot of a motel. Keys were procured and the boys soon found themselves in Room 43 of the Prince Faust Motel.  
"Can't believe you wouldn't let me drive." Dean groaned as he flopped down on the nearest bed.  
"Still going to gripe about that?" Sam asked.  
"Until I get my keys back, yeah." Dean muttered, hands rubbing his face.  
"You'll live. In the mean time, I want to know why that Trickster isn't dead." Sam went to go get his computer and bags from the car. Dean followed to help with weapons and his bags.

Research was slow going, while there was an awful lot of Nordic lore and stories, that was all a lot of it was: lore and stories. Finding the way to kill the Trickster wasn't the problem, they knew that already. According to all the legends, the pine stake dipped in blood _should_ have worked. The problem was finding out why it hadn't, there was virtually no information on that. Dean pulled himself away from the computer screen with a sigh, rubbing his eyes, they were getting nowhere.  
"I'm gonna get some coffee, want any?" Sam asked as he slipped his wallet in his pocket.  
"Yeah, bring back something to eat too." Dean said, as he stood and stretched his back. "Anything is good."  
Sam nodded and was out the door. Dean hit the sheets as soon as he was gone, hoping to rest for a bit before getting back to his research.

**Salem, Massachusetts 1692**

Another frost would be coming soon, she needed to dig quickly for the roots she required for the healing tea. Deanna brushed back a strand of honey blond hair that had fallen from her bonnet and dug further into the ground, stopping now and again to chop at the frozen hard packed earth. The snow had melted away over the past few days, the top layer of dirt warming up under the sun, but there was always more to come. Soon the root was located and extracted from the ground. Deanna wrapped it in a bit of white cloth and packed it and her trowel into the basket she'd put next to the hole she had dug. Diana refilled the hole, after making sure she had what she needed, and walked back home.

Home, was a little village named Salem, where Deanna was a healer and midwife; she lived just beyond the farms, closer to the woods. Her late husband had been a carpenter and had built their home close to the woods for that reason and so Deanna would be closer to any wild herbs she needed. Deanna opened the door to her house and after tending the fire and setting the kettle to boil, she began to prepare the root. When it was chopped finely, she divided it into two batches and set one aside. The other she blended with a few other herbs and dried flower petals and when it was steeped and drained, mixed it with honey. Deanna quickly drank it down and gathered the remainder in a small tin. After delivering the tea and instructions on using it, she headed back home.

It was one day while she was out chopping wood that Deanna and the strange man met.  
"Excuse me, could you tell me if I'm getting close to Salem? My horse and I have been traveling awhile and we're rather tired."  
Deanna turned around, ax in hand, she wasn't stupid after all, and looked at the stranger. He was a little taller than her, had brown hair that framed his face nicely and was standing next to a black horse dappled with white and that had a white mane and tail. Deanna smiled when the horse nudged the man's shoulder impatiently. His clothing was travel worn, but still in good condition. She glanced at the bags on the horse, they were what gave his profession away. He was a traveling apothecary, she didn't see them too often.  
"Pay her no mind, she just wants the sugar lump in my pocket." he said as the horse nudged him again, this time nibbling on his shirt. "Impetuous beast." He gently nudged her nose away. "My name is Richard, if that helps. Richard North."  
"North?" Deanna asked.  
"There were four Richards in my village, my father was one of them and we lived on the north side of the village." Richard replied.  
Deanna nodded. "The village is close, keep following the path you're on, it leads straight to town."

It was true, if Deanna leaned the right way, she could see her house through the trees and the farms just beyond it.  
"Thank you, Miss..."  
"Mrs. actually. Mrs. Wilshire."  
Richard thanked her again and continued on his way to the village.

Time went on and Richard and Deanna saw each other every time that he came through the village. He normally came though every few weeks, eight at the most, Richard used Salem as a spot to restock his supplies. They bonded over a shared interest in herbs and an over lapping profession of sorts. They shared techniques in healing and Deana was fascinated with some of Richard's, He had techniques that she had never heard of or seen before. One night over dinner, Richard asked why she lived so far away from the village square.  
"I've told you about my late husband, correct?"  
Richard nodded.  
"We were married back in England before we sailed here. Jacob was good at carpentry, so we set our house here to be close to the woods. Things were very good for awhile. We were talking about starting a family after we had settled down here, and had just started trying for a baby, when his accident happened." Deanna took a drink from her cup before continuing. "It was an animal attack. He was in the woods, chopping down a tree, when it happened."

"I tried to save him, I did, but he succumbed to his wounds and died shortly after." She swallowed thickly, a few tears dropping to stain her dress.  
Richard squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry, Deanna. I didn't know."  
"Of course you didn't." Deanna replied. "How could you?"  
She sighed and untangled their hands. "Mrs. Wickham asked about us today when I was in town. She wanted to know why I spend so much time with you and if you're going to make an honest woman of me."

Richard stared at her for a moment, he knew he had been spending a lot of time with Deanna, but not so much that the villagers would begin to notice.  
"I told her that we were just friends and colleagues and to not jest about such things."  
The two finished dinner quietly and made plans to meet again before Richard had to leave the village. In the following weeks after Richard's departure, a new face was seen around the village of Salem, that of the new town Magistrate. He had just come from England and was under order of the king to root out any and all witches in Salem. Or at least that's what the paperwork said.

He was an older gentleman with long gray hair and a striking figure. The most striking bit being his loss of one eye. According to the magistrate he had lost it in a sword fight when he was younger. Deanna wouldn't have been surprised if it had been over a woman, something about the magistrate just made her skin crawl and she had no idea why. It might have something to do with the way he kept looking at her, like he had seen her before. Whatever the reason was, it gave her the creeps, and she did her best to avoid him. Lately that had proven harder and harder to do, he was everywhere. Their newest run in had been at the candle maker's.

Everyone knew that the magistrate was without a wife and that he was looking for a new one, when he wasn't scouring the village for the devil's minions, that is. When he learned the Deanna was a widow, his pursuit of her had doubled.  
"Mrs. Wilshire, a pleasure to see you as always." Magistrate Walker nodded to her. "And what brings you to town today?"  
Deanna tried not to grimace as she smiled hello in return. "Magistrate. I needed to place an order for some candles and wanted to see the new holders that had come in."  
"Would you like assistance? I'd be happy to help you." he said, moving to carry Deanna's basket.  
Deanna moved out of his way. "No. Thank you. I can finish my errands on my own. If you'll excuse me." Deanna stepped around the Magistrate and continued on her way. She shivered as she entered the tailor's shop, wishing that Richard was there.

The magistrate sighed in frustration as he watched Deanna leave. This was not going as he had planned. He knew it wouldn't be easy, he had planned for that, but her steadfast refusing just made it all worse. She had met Loki in this life alright. He turned and walked away, vanishing once he was in between two of the buildings.

Deana waited in the tailor's shop for a little bit before leaving to begin her trip home. On the way out of town, she stopped by the farrier to talk to another member of the townsfolk and to pet his horse. James Singer had come to her for help with his wife. They were expecting a baby and he wanted something to help his wife be able to keep down what she ate. James was happy to let Deana know that the remedies that she had given Hannah were working nicely and she was able to eat almost normally. Deana smiled. "That's very good to hear. I'll be by soon to check on her and the baby." She petted the horse of his that was waiting for the farrier. "It was a pleasure to see you too Elizabeth." she whispered in the horse's ear and left.

No one really understood what had happened afterwards, but the horse began to act out of character for herself. She was a horse that James had owned since he had been a teen and she was a sweet, gentle horse, wouldn't hurt anyone. That couldn't be said now, a while after Deanna had left she had begun to act strangely. She had bitten James, fought with the farrier and kicked out at any that had tried to contain her. It all culminated with her kicking James as he tried to grab at her reins, the blow from her sharp hooves hitting him squarely in the chest, killing him. Elizabeth reared once and fell over dead herself.

Odin watched all of this happen, invisible next to a building, he smiled as the horse died and the townsfolk gathered, whispering about what had happened. He watched the preacher in the crowd of people as they all talked. Turning himself visible again, Odin walked up to the preacher and whispered softly to him.  
"It was the strangest thing. I saw Deanna and James talking and she petted the horse and talked to it before she left. Afterwards, the horse acted like this."  
"That is rather odd, but Deanna's talked with animals before, most people do." the preacher replied.  
"I know, it's a common enough habit and I don't want to point fingers, but..." Odin trailed off. "It's just odd is all, she talks to them and both James and his horse die awhile later." The preacher nodded in agreement and Odin walked away.

People didn't really start talking about the possibility of a witch and who it might be until people started to die. It was only a couple of people, and the only thing that they had in common was that they both had been to see Deanna about a stomach problem. Both had complained about upset stomachs and the herbs she gave them, helped calm their stomachs down. Both had died after coughing up copious amounts of green bile and bloody stomach acid. The preacher had his suspicions and Odin was going to point them in the right direction.  
"See? She _is_ up to something! People who came to her for help have died. These people were fine until they went to her."  
"She is a well received member of this community Magistrate, but I understand your point, others have come to me with the same concerns. Perhaps we should talk to her and try to clear things up."

The preacher really didn't want to believe the things that were being said. He knew Deanna and trusted her to do what was right. He and Odin were joined by several of the other townsfolk, most of whom were convinced that Deanna was a witch. Odin was content to let the people think as they wanted, but the preacher tried with very little success, to instill some reason in the group's mind. Odin decided to step in then, the last thing he needed was for someone to try to take things into their own hands.  
"We are not accusing her outright, we want to talk to her, to see if there is another explanation."  
"And if she is a witch?" one of the crowd asked.  
"Then we will take her into custody." Odin replied.

It was at the edges of the farms that the group began to suspect that there was more to Deana than she presented in public. The howling started as they came to the farms, becoming louder and more insistent as they passed them. Shadows darted past the group, the wolves barking to each other and snapping at them. Their howling swept past the group and they stopped as a pack of wolves, nine of them, stepped into the path in front of them.  
"See how they guard her?" Odin asked.  
"I do." the preacher replied. He turned his attention to the wolves. "Be gone with you, foul beasts of Hell. Away, demons of the dark!" The preacher made the sign of the cross and chanted prayers in Latin. The wolves stayed where they were, growling softly in warning.  
 _"Move along."_ Odin commanded them silently. The wolves growled threateningly one more time and ran away.  
The group moved on.

As they approached Deanna's home, two ravens circled and landed on the roof of the house. The light shone on their feathers, turning them a glossy black with blue and green highlights.  
"Ravens! The messengers of Satan himself." the preacher cried out. He truly hadn't wanted to believe it, but first the wolves and now the ravens... Deanna was a witch, there was now no doubt. Odin tried not to laugh at hearing this. The ravens were his of course, not Deanna's, but only he need know that.

Deana came out at all the noise going on and demanded to know what was going on. The ravens burst into flames at the preacher's chanting and everyone ducked to avoid the sparks of the flames as they showered down.  
"What more proof do you need?" Odin whispered to the preacher. Standing up, he said "Deanna Wilshire, you are accused of witchcraft and of being the devil's consort. You are under arrest." he moved to bind her.  
"What? I have done no such thing!" Deanna protested.  
"The evidence begs to differ." Odin replied, clasping her hands in shackles.

The trial was nothing but a formality and more or less a joke.  
"Deanna Wilshire, you are hearby found guilty of the crimes of witchcraft and consorting with the devil. How do you plead?" the magistrate asked. He had found another witch in his midst in Salem Village, it was a shame that this one had to be as lovely as Deanna was.  
Deanna stood up, her hands in shackles, pausing to brush a strand of hair off her dirt stained face. Her green eyes flashed in defiance. "I have told you the truth Magistrate Walker, but you refuse to see or believe it. I am no minion of Satan, I was helping those people."

Deanna had been a healer, using herbs and potions to help the sick and injured, she was very good at it. As good as she was, it had attracted some rather high up attention, and not all of that attention had been good for her. It had led to her being accused of witchcraft, simply because she knew better ways of easing the pain of others. It had also led her to a man she loved dearly and would do whatever she could for him. He had been the one to help her perfect her craft. "The only things I am guilty of, is loving someone and helping where needed."  
"Since you refuse to repent your evil ways, you are sentenced to death by burning. May God have mercy on your soul."  
 _May he have mercy on your soul._ Deanna thought. _You need it more then I._  
The gavel banged down.

The following day, a large pyre with a platform and stake were erected in the town square and the prisoner was led up and tied to it. Deanna pulled at the ropes binding her to the stake. There was no give whatsoever. Magistrate Walker walked up to the pyre holding an already lit torch.  
"This is your last chance to repent." He said, walking up the stairs that had been left for him. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "If you repent now, I can make it easy for you. Just admit the truth."  
"I've done nothing wrong. I'll face my death, I welcome it." Deanna replied.  
"A pity then." The one eyed man said softly "You would have made a lovely play toy." He stared at her before walking back down the steps and having them set aside. Turning to the crowd of onlookers, he raised his voice to be heard. "Let the record show that the witch, Deanna Wilshire, refuses to repent and is sentenced to death by burning." The torch was lowered to the kindling and soon the pyre was completely ablaze.

By the time the fire began to sear her flesh, Deanna was semi-conscious from smoke inhalation. When her skin caught fire, she began to scream. It was easy to see the smoke from the edge of the village, it was the screaming that made Richard run. By the time he reached the center, Deena was already dead and the fire was consuming her body.  
"No!" Richard screamed, pushing his way to the front of the crowd. "What did you do to her?"  
"Well, well, well, look who's here. The witch's lover." the magistrate smirked. "Just in time to see her death and earn his own, since he taught her. Seize him!"  
The magistrate's guards moved to grab Richard.  
"I am no witch!" Richard shouted as he struggled in the guards grip.  
"You have been seen with the accused and tried, therefore you must be a witch." Walker replied.  
"I am not!" Richard snarled, slamming an elbow into the stomach of one of the guards and wrenching himself free.

"The evidence speaks against you, sir. You have been seen with the witch and have taught her evil. You have strange trinkets with you and practice stranger medicines. I name you witch." The magistrate intoned, looking Richard in the eye as the guards grabbed for him again.  
"I am no witch and neither was she, you bastard." Richard growled out. "You only burned her because she rejected you."  
"Take him to the jailhouse, he'll await trial there." The Magistrate said to the guards.

The next morning when Magistrate Walker came to Richard's cell, he had vanished, the door still locked. The Magistrate wasn't happy about it and demanded to know how he had gotten out. No one knew, no one had seen him leave. There were runes written on the walls and while none of the humans could make heads or tails of it, Odin could. They were insults about his mother and the mouth of a goat. According to all sources, the Magistrate swore a blue streak upon reading them, before storming out.


	2. Chicago, Illinois 1923

**Present Time**

Dean bolted upright in bed, a scream dying in his throat, but still ringing in his head. He looked down at his body, running his hands over his chest, certain he'd find burns on his skin. There was nothing there except for the scars and marks that he expected. Dean's heartbeat began to slow down and stop doing its best impression of a horse at full gallop. Dean flopped back onto the bed, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, and stared at the water marked motel ceiling. He swore he could still smell burning flesh and shivered at the thought. He grasped for the bottle of whiskey he had set on the night stand earlier and sat up long enough to take a gulp from it. Clutching at the bottle in the dark, he tried to reason with what he had seen. But the only thing that made any sense, was that it was a memory of Hell, and he was hard pressed to make even _that_ work. Dean set the bottle back on the nightstand and lay back down.

He slept fitfully for the rest of the night, fire flashing behind his eyelids.

"Dude, are you okay?" Sam asked the following morning. "You look like ten miles of bad road."  
Dean really did look like hell, he had dark circles under his eyes, his hair stuck up in all directions.  
"Didn't sleep well." Dean groaned, picking up his cup of coffee. "Kept dreaming about fire." He took a sip from his cup, smiling in appreciation as the liquid hit his tongue. He still couldn't see how or why Sam would take his coffee with all that cream and sugar, black was the only way to go.  
"Fire? Something about Mom?" Sam asked.  
"No, more like being burned at the stake."   
"Ow."  
"Tell me about it." Dean snorted.

 

**Chicago, Illinois 1923**

The speakeasy was crowded and smoky tonight. Dana looked over the crowd gathered at the Roadhouse from her seat at the bar. She sipped her gin, the alcohol leaving a filmy taste of oil on her tongue. She wasn't here for the booze, nor for the dancing or music. Not many would admit to it, but the building the Roadhouse currently occupied, was haunted. It wasn't surprising to Dana, they were in an old theater after all, but this many people would make a simple salt and burn difficult. Brushing a bit of invisible lint off her silver dress, (it paid to dress the part of a flapper) Dana watched the people on the dance floor, her hand brushing the white fringe at her knee, as the details from the case floated through her mind..

In 1913, one Violet Gracie Richardson, had worked at what was then known as the Majestic Theater. She had been having an affair with the owner of the theater, a guy named Marcus. The affair was known to everyone, well everyone but Marcus's wife. The rumor was that when Violet became pregnant with his child, Marcus and Violet decided to celebrate. He gave her a ruby pendent and swore that he would leave his wife for her; that he wanted nothing more than to start a new life with her and their baby. They each had a glass of champagne to toast their new happy lives. Unbeknownst to Violet, her glass was laced with a drug that would abort the baby, she was nothing but a bit of fun for Marcus, he had no intention of leaving his wife. If he did that, he'd be left penniless in the street. What they both didn't know, was that Marcus had used too much of the drug in Violet's glass. She died in horrific pain and her body was quietly disposed of, with no one the wiser. The building had been haunted ever since, but Violet only showed herself or attacked if there was only one or two people around, for some reason she didn't like crowds in death.

Dana finished her gin and signaled for another.   
The bartender came over with the bottle. "Bit of a strong drink for a lady." he commented while he poured.  
"I'm no lady and I can handle it." Dana replied, picking up the glass. Her green eyes roamed the crowd again, mind thinking of and rejecting ways to get people out so she could hunt in peace. It occurred to her, that most speakeasies were open all the time, the only way to get them closed was with a raid by the cops.

Dana spied a guy standing by a door towards the back. He was her height, longish brown hair kept under a gray fedora and wore a dark pinstripe suit with a white shirt, charcoal tie and a silver ring on his finger. She would have dismissed him, if it weren't for two things. He was unwrapping a sucker and he was standing in front of what she highly suspected was the office. She was looking at Sweet Tooth Bree, one of Capone's men. Everyone knew of his love of sweets, particularly suckers, which she watched as he put the newly unwrapped one into his mouth, his tongue stained red. She finished her drink and made her way toward him.  
"What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" he drawled as she walked up.  
Dana smiled prettily at him. "Wondering what a guy like you is doing working for Capone and if I could get you a drink."

Bree looked at her and grinned. Her flirting was a bit off and a tad straight forward, but then she had never really been one for coy looks and games. The last time they had played this dance had been 60 years before in South Carolina, when she had been a plantation owner's son, before the war. He took the candy from his mouth and pointed at her with it.  
"Again with no games, it's nice to see you doll face, even if you are rusty."  
Confusion clouded Dana's face. "But we've never met before and I'm not rusty, thank you." she replied.  
"Sorry doll, but you are. Luckily you're cute, so I'm willing to over look it." He leaned back against the door, the faded blue of the paint blending into the wall. "And I work for the mob because it's fun. Makes things interesting for now."  
"It's fun to guard a door?" Dana deadpanned, her head tilted to the side slightly, honey blond hair brushing against her cheekbones.  
"It is right now." Bree replied, sucking on the candy. "But I do have something else I need to see to, so I'll see you in five minutes right?" he asked.  
"Perhaps." Dana smiled.

Bree crunched the glistening red candy between his teeth and promised to be back. As soon as he was gone, Dana picked the lock on the door, using a hairpin from her hair band. She'd have to thank her uncle's jeweler again for making her lock picks look like small hair ornaments, that man was a genius. Slipping inside, she saw that she had been right in thinking that this was the office. A phone sat on the desk and she used it to place a call. Hanging up after a couple of minutes, she smiled to herself, the police were on their way. She relocked the door and made her way to a good waiting spot by the bar.

She hadn't given the actual address but that of a building a block over. The presence of the fuzz that close should send everyone packing for the night. Sure enough, the wail of the sirens was enough for the whole house to drop their drinks and run. In all the confusion, Dana hid behind the bar and waited. As the sounds of people scurrying away faded, she came out and began to search for whatever it was that Violet was attached to. There was nothing in the main room of the speakeasy, the bar or the office. Dana went further back into the building. As she was ripping apart an old dressing room, she growled, "God, I hope this bitch doesn't make it necessary to burn the whole building, I don't want to do that again."

In an old safe in another room, she found what she was sure she was looking for. It was a brush and in it were strands of blond hair. The handle of the brush was tarnished silver engraved in a swirling pattern and the hair was caught in the dry horsehair bristles. The room itself had been converted into storage, all around Dana were crates and bottles of gin and whiskey. The safe was in the wall behind an old sofa. Dana had no idea what it was doing there, but she guessed that it might have been Violet's old dressing room. She was rewarded in her hunt, by the temperature in the room cooling rapidly, and her breath becoming visible in front of her.  
"What are you doing?" a voice demanded as a blond woman appeared before her. 

She was dressed in a dressing gown, the color looked to be a pale pink, and the woman's hair was piled artfully on top of her head. Her blue eyes were piercing and they transfixed Dana with their gaze.  
"That is my brush, what are you doing with it, it doesn't belong to you." She swooped in close to Dana. "Leave it alone."  
"Hello Violet." Dana replied, grabbing a bottle and pouring the contents onto the brush. "I'm here to send you to where you should be. You need to move on."  
"No!" Violet shrieked and dove for Dana. She shoved Dana, who dropped the brush and went slamming into some crates, causing bottles to fall out and smash onto the floor.  
"Son of a _bitch_!" Dana swore and fell to the floor. The smell of alcohol began to permeate the air. Violet moved in again and picked up Dana, slamming her into another wall.  
"He said he loved me!" she hissed.

Dana fell amongst broken glass and the alcohol stung like hell. She reached for the hem of her dress and felt for her garter. Both of the garters she wore tonight were specially made for her, each one had loops on the outside, and each loop held a vial. She brought out the vials of salt and iron shavings shaped into small balls. She shook a vial into her hand, the salt made her cuts sting even more, and flung the mixture at Violet. Violet vanished and Dana painfully got to her feet, it wouldn't last long and would piss Violet off even more, but hopefully it was enough. Dana grabbed the remains of a broken crate, the brush, some old fabric and a bottle of gin. She soaked the fabric, tossed in the brush and soaked it all down with the remains of the bottle.

Dana was about to light the whole mess on fire, when Violet reappeared, her hand reaching into Dana's body, gripping her. "He killed me!" she screamed. "He killed our baby! The poison he got from the pharmacist, Marcus used too much of it. He only needed one drop, instead he used three and killed us both."   
She twisted her hand and Dana screamed, dropping the lighter, which caught fire to a puddle of whiskey. The floor was so old, uncared for and now soaked in flammable liquid, that it went up in flames quickly.  
"All I wanted was to have his baby and have a life with him. But he took that all away and now you're trying to do the same to me." Violet hissed. The floor beneath them buckled and Dana fell through. She fell into the basement and into an honest to God, bathtub full of bathtub gin. The film from the alcohol she had tasted earlier was now all over her body. Her head banged on the porcelain rim, but she managed to resurface with a gasp and a throbbing sensation in the back of her head. Coughing and gagging on the taste of gin, and smoke, Dana looked up just in time to see a rain of flame and broken wood falling towards her.

The resulting explosion shook the ground for several blocks. The police that were already there, called for the fire department when they saw the fire ball. The flames roared into the sky and when all was said and done, the Majestic Theater would be completely gone and the debris from the explosion would damage the surrounding buildings. Some would need to rebuild and some would just have smoke damage. In all just one block of property was affected. 

The police watched from a few blocks away, having cordoned off the area so the firemen could work. When Gabriel felt Dana's life being snuffed out, he flew back to the Majestic as fast as his wings could carry him. "Officer, what happened?" he asked.  
The officer, the sergeant actually, an older gray haired man, turned around. One of his eyes was milky. "The Majestic caught fire, some sort of explosion at the speakeasy that was there." he answered with a smirk.  
"Odin." Gabriel growled.  
"Gabriel."  
"Why do you keep doing this? Why keep hurting us like this?" Gabriel demanded. "Why can't you let us be happy?"  
"Because I swore it! You _insulted_ me after I took you in and made you a part of my family. You may be able to find happiness with this soul, but it will not last, I can promise you that." Odin barked back.  
Gabriel glared at Odin his hand curling into a fist.  
Odin snickered. "Come on, I'll let you even let you have the first shot."  
Gabriel let himself indulge and hit Odin full across the jaw.

The crack from the punch rang out like thunder and it made all the other officers pay attention and come to their sergeant's aid.  
"It's all right boys, I can handle this. We'll settle this like men after all." Odin said, waving off the others. The officers backed off and watched as the scene unfolded in front of them. Storm clouds began to gather in the sky as both removed their coats and hats, laid them aside and rolled up their shirt sleeves. As they did so, their shadows stretched up an out behind them, streaming across the street and nearby buildings. Gabriel's had four pairs of wings sprouting from his back and in his hand was what appeared to be a flaming sword. Odin's shadow had horns on either side of his head and was massively muscular. Thunder began to roll as his shadow was joined by what looked like to the officers to be two large winged demons. In truth they weren't demons, but Odin's ravens, Huginn and Muninn.  
"Mother of God!" One of the group whispered, none of them knew what to make of this. At all. It frankly, was scaring them.

"Is that all you can do for a punch?" Odin asked. "Because your execution needs work, your kind always _did_ rely far too much on their swords." Odin laced both of his hands together and aimed down towards the right and across Gabriel's jaw, knocking him to the ground and causing the windows in the lower parts of the surrounding buildings and cars to shatter and fall to the pavement. At this display, something inside all of the officers clicked and they ran, scattering to the winds in search of safety. Gabriel got back to his feet to the sound of Odin taunting him. He wiped the trickle of blood off his chin and snorted. "Old man, you give yourself _far_ too much credit. Follow me if you want a real fight."   
Gabriel left his host body and shot up into the clouds into the metaphysical plane.  
Odin followed, intent on teaching Gabriel a lesson.

Once on the metaphysical plane, Gabriel let his wings stretch out as far as he could and his sword's flame grew. Odin pulled his sword, a rather large great sword, out of the air. It required two hands to use it and was caked in ice.  
"You, boy, are too flashy with your sword. You really need more than a bit of fire to scare a bunch of drunken goat herders out in the Middle East." With that Odin commanded a wave of ravens and wolves to attack Gabriel.   
Gabriel laughed as he slaughtered them all. "If you want to fight Odin, do it yourself, don't send your playthings after me." Gabriel sliced open the wolves. "Is that it?"

Odin rushed behind the last of the beasts and swung with his sword at Gabriel. Gabriel caught the great sword with his, the two clanged and locked together, causing steam to erupt into the air and ice to crack off Odin's sword.  
"Impudent whelp. _This_ is how you repay me after I took you in? You, who left your family of angels, and after I made you my son, gave you a new name and your power? After I made you what you are?" Odin thundered.  
"I don't have to listen to you!" Gabriel snarled back. "You hold _no_ authority over me! _I_ am the one who made myself what I am."  
Odin burst out laughing and mocked Gabriel. "You sound like a teenager. You need to learn your place."  
They broke apart from each other.

Meanwhile back in Chicago, their actions were being mirrored in the weather. A massive storm was brewing and the sudden appearance of it had people watching it carefully and starting to head for cover.

Odin staggered to his feet. "We may not be in Asgard anymore, but we're still far enough north that I can beat you in a fight." He growled, swinging his sword at Gabriel again, and letting loose a blast of Arctic wind and ice.  
The blast hit Gabriel and he struggled to stay upright as it hit his wings, the force of the blast stinging his skin and pulling feathers from his wings. His sword struggled to remain lit under the cold assault. Snow began to fall on Earth in response, quickly followed by a torrent of hail, which made anyone outside, dive for cover.  
"You're pathetic you know that, right?" Odin asked Gabriel. "All you are is a _creation_ of a God. Meanwhile, _I'm_ an actual God, I could beat you without breaking a sweat." During all of Odin's boasting, the winds began to lessen and Gabriel found it easier to stand his ground.  
"You know what, old man? I'm getting _damn_ tired of hearing you talk. I may be the son of a God, but I'm the son of a God in a _nation_ of over a hundred and six million people, most of whom believe in Christianity. How many here believe in Norse myths?"

Gabriel breathed deeply and began to draw on old powers that he had tucked away. His clothing knit itself back together and began to glow as it absorbed his power. Gabriel's halo burst into form above his head and his wings, all eight of them, began to shine with angelic fire. His sword's flame erupted and grew in size and power. The power of the humans' prayers and belief in him had made Gabriel strong and more then able to deal with Odin.  
Odin looked at Gabriel unafraid. "Nice show, I'm still not afraid of you. I made you, I can take you down."  
Gabriel snorted and swung his sword, slamming it back down on Odin's, shattering it. The results on Earth were huge flashes of lightning and thunder, a minor earthquake and sheets of ice that fell from the sky mixed with football sized hail. Odin retaliated by sending Huginn and Muninn to attack Gabriel. Gabriel fended them off and made ready to attack Odin again. And he would have too, if he hadn't heard one thing.

_The Choir._

"Oh shit..." Gabriel groaned. His power display had attracted the attention of the Host and they were coming for him now. Michael appeared between the two, the three of them forming a triangle. His form was that of a dark haired man with brown eyes, dressed in slacks and a white shirt.  
"Gabriel, it's finally nice to see you again, but I'm disappointed with how you choose to spend your time. Surely you have other things to do then fight with old religious relics."  
"I am no relic!" Odin hissed at Michael. "I am Odin. I am a God. I-"  
Michael didn't even bother to listen to Odin and just waved his hand in the air in a slapping motion. The force of the divine energy was as if God himself had bitch slapped Odin upside the head.

Silence fell across the entire plane, Odin looked at Michael in shock. _No one_ had ever dared to raise a hand to him like that before. While all of this was going on, Gabriel decided that now was a good time to make like a bat out of Hell and vanished. Michael turned back to where Gabriel had been and just called after him, "You know where your place is Gabriel. You will fulfill it."  
Odin chose to leave as well, he was outclassed for now and wanted to live to fight another day. Michael didn't care what happened to him.

"Michael?" asked a young black haired Seraphim, Castiel, was his name. "We're getting a lot of prayers to stop the storm."  
Michael thought about it for a moment. "No. Let them deal with it." He turned away and left the metaphysical plane.  
Castiel watched the people on Earth as they dealt with the storm. He wanted to help them, really, but orders were orders. He left as well. That storm was the worst in Chicago's recorded history.

Unseen by everyone, Dana had watched the fight between Gabriel and Odin in confusion. When she had opened her eyes, the fire was gone and she felt no pain, but the sounds and lights from their battle drew her, and she moved closer to them. While watching she looked down at her body with the vague notion that she should be in immense pain. It was the last thing that she could clearly remember, along with the sensation of falling and of fire. Her body flickered in and out at the relief that those sensations were gone.  
 _"I'm dead."_ she thought as she flickered back into view. Somehow that thought didn't really bother her, but the fact that she was missing something, something important, did. She had no idea what it was.

Dana paid attention again to the fight, moving closer to see who it was. She didn't recognize either fighter, but the one with the halo felt familiar, but no name or face came to mind. The one with the birds filled her with trepidation and Dana moved back so that they wouldn't see her. It didn't matter, neither of them paid attention to her at all, they were too focused on themselves.

There was a tap on her shoulder and when Dana had turned, she saw a red haired woman at her side.

A red haired woman with wings.

"It's time to go." the woman said.  
"Are you an angel?" Dana asked. "And go where?"  
The woman nodded. "My name is Anna and it's time for you to rest, you've earned it." She began to lead Dana away.  
"What about them? Do you know who they are?"  
Anna nodded. "Yes, and you don't need to worry about them for now." She took Dana's hand. "We need to leave now."

When more beings like Anna began to show up, Dana allowed herself finally to be pulled away.


	3. Massachusetts, The Traveler's Tavern, 1753

**Massachusetts, The Traveler's Tavern, 1753**

The Tavern was doing brisk business today, Diana quickly cleared and wiped down a table before it was filled. "What can I get for you today gentlemen?" She asked, wiping her hands on the apron tied around her waist.  
"Two pints of ale and whatever you're serving." One of the men replied with a lecherous look at Diana's chest.  
She had come to expect that. Diana knew that she was rather well endowed to begin with, her corset didn't help hide that fact at all, but most of the men that came here knew that hitting on her and treating her like a doxie was a bad idea, and any that did regretted it soon after. They all knew that she had a man already and she was no whore. But these men weren't locals, nor from the surrounding area, they were red coats sent by King George to stop the colonists from rebelling and to start behaving again. Diana's family was staunchly loyal to England and the crown, Diana pretended to be. In truth, she sided with the Revolutionaries and was proud to work with them. Diana came back with the two men's drinks, set them on the table and took their orders for food. One of them slapped her on the ass as she walked away.

"You would do well to not do that again." a voice growled behind him. The red coat turned his head to see who it was. The man standing behind him wore a white shirt, black breeches and a tan coat. Black books and a black tricorn hat completed his attire. His hair was tied back and he glared down at the two men. "Apologize, now."  
Diana watched the three men. What the red coats didn't know, was that the third man was her lover; he was also one of the best highwaymen in the colonies. He mainly took from the wealthy, and was working against the British as well. It was how they met. The young man must have seen something in the highwayman's eyes, because he turned to Diana and stammered out a fast apology. Diana just nodded to him.  
"Your food will be with you soon." She gestured for the third man to follow her to the bar. "I'll be with you soon." The man gave her a quick kiss on the temple as he walked by.   
"Thank you Gabriel."  
"Welcome love."

"How have you been the past fortnight?" Gabriel asked, sipping from the ale Diana placed in front of him. It wasn't bad, but it made him miss mead a bit, he reminded himself to introduce Diana to it.  
"I've been tolerable. Missed you. Oh! And I do have news."  
Gabriel grinned. Well it was more of a combination of a grin and a leer, really. "Oh really? Care to show me how much?" He didn't actually mean anything by it, they had already had this conversation before, but he did like to tease her.  
"Mr. Novak!" Diana exclaimed in mock outrage. "I am not that kind of woman."  
Gabriel's smile was genuine this time. "I know, but not even a kiss?" he asked.  
"I can do that." Diana said and kissed him. It was brief, too brief for Gabriel's liking, and while he knew that Diana wanted to wait until she was a properly married woman to be physically intimate with him, and he respected that, he wished they could be. It was one of the reasons he had been gone the past few weeks, other than being busy robbing rich carriages for fun, and passing the profits to the Revolutionaries. He had needed the time to think about their relationship. It hadn't taken him long to see that he was in love with her, and that thought terrified the hell out of him. Not nearly as badly as it had the first time, but it still made him pause. It always had, the realization that he loved this soul with all his worth.

And it was the reason he would be leaving in a couple of days, this time to find her a ring.  
"So what's your news?" he asked.  
"In about a week and a half, the British will be moving a load of weapons and supplies." Diana said softly. She went on to explain how these guns would be switched out with some older, unreliable ones that would be made to look like the new ones and the supplies for them would be switched as well. After that Diana fell back into the pace of serving other patrons of the tavern, checking on Gabriel whenever she could. Gabriel stayed the rest of the night and walked her to her home.

"Can't you stay a little longer? You just got here." Diana asked. It was two days later and Gabriel was already saddling up his horse, a gray mare with a black mane and tail, that he called Imp.  
Gabriel adjusted the straps and turned back to Diana. "I'll be back before you know it. Boston isn't that far away." In truth he could have flown there in seconds but traveling by horse was fun for him too. "You won't even know that I'm gone." He gave her a kiss and then rode away.

Finding a ring took longer than he thought it would. It was in a small shop that he found what he was looking for. They were a pair of silver rings, one a plain band and the other had three small bright green stones set in it. Gabriel bought them and then began his trip home. Coming into town was uneventful, it wasn't until he was approaching the tavern that everything went to hell.  
 _"Let go of me!"_ he heard someone, a woman, shout from inside. Diana was dragged out in to the yard surrounding the building by a pair of British soldiers. She was thrown to the ground in front of a General and he looked at her with disgust.  
"You are hereby found guilty of the crime of treason against the crown and against England. How do you plead?" he asked.  
"I did no wrong. I gladly serve my country, if it means we can be free from the likes of you and King George." Diana spat back.

Gabriel's heart lodged itself firmly in his throat, what the _hell_ was going on? Time seemed to slow down as he watched everything unfold in front of him.  
The General pulled out his pistol, cocked it, aimed and fired. Diana fell to the ground, at that distance he didn't miss. Time resumed with a snap and Gabriel ran towards them, getting a good look at the General. It was Odin. He smiled at Gabriel and vanished. Gabriel descended on the tavern, and proceeded to kill everyone in the building in an enraged fury. It wasn't until after he had buried Diana that he remembered that he had been holding the pouch that contained the rings. He vaguely remembered dropping them and went to search the ground for them. He found the pouch lying in the dirt and opened it, shaking the rings into his hand.

The rings fell out in a mangled lump, the stones and their setting broken. Gabriel brushed away the broken bits of stone and looked at the metal. They were a misshapen lump, the two loops had been forged together and created a bigger ring, albeit a lop sided one. You could see the loop of one inside the other. He twirled the metal between his fingers and began to reshape it. The metal became warm and pliant in his hands and soon Gabriel had a larger ring in his hands. He pocketed it and walked away from the tavern.

 

**Present Time**

Dean sat up with a jerk. These dreams (nightmares?) were beginning to wear thin on him and were starting to piss him off. Being a chick was alright he guessed, but the constant dying was irritating and the guy that kept showing up... Well, Dean didn't know what the fuck to make of him. Obviously a lover, the fact that he was male barely registered, the fact that he looked like the Trickster, did. 

Big time.

Dean stumbled through the dark into the bathroom, not bothering with the light, as he leaned over the sink and splashed some cold water on his face, looking at himself in the mirror above it. Something was going to happen, he could feel it. He just didn't know what.


	4. Charleston, South Carolina, 1862

**Charleston, South Carolina, 1862**

Daniel smothered another yawn and groaned softly to himself. He _hated_ parties like these. If he had to smile, be polite and make idle chit chat with one more simpering moron of an debutant, he was going to not only kill himself, but her as well. His father was, yet again, parading him around all the unmarried young women his age. Apparently his father couldn't stand the thought of another homosexual son. Just because the party had worked at finding his older brother a wife, didn't mean it would for him. Besides, what his father hadn't known, was that his brother liked the company of both men _and_ women; it was the only way that the party had worked to begin with. 

He looked around the room, tugging lightly on his collar; he did not enjoy wearing the blue and silver dress suit. Some of the girls he had met tonight were perfectly fine. He could have been friends with a few of them, but other than that, there was no interest on his part. He was beginning to feel like a prized piece of steak on display at a meat market, with the way some of the girls were fawning over him. Out of all the ladies he had met tonight, so far the only one he had actually enjoyed talking to, was a Miss Charlene Bradbury. The little red head had spunk and he had enjoyed comparing notes with her on the party.  
"I know _exactly_ how you feel. It's not fun being dressed up and paraded out for your family's future." Charlene's family made their money by being hunters and gunsmiths.

They had been having a wonderful conversation about firearms, Daniel could shoot a pistol and sword fight, but had never learned how to use a rifle, and the fact that Charlene could, fascinated him. The conversation was brought to an end far too soon for Daniel's liking, when his father interrupted to pull him away.  
"It is unwise to been favoring one above the others John said softly.  
"I _like_ her, she's interesting." Daniel retorted.  
"Be that as it may, I want you to go talk to Lisa Brandon and Ellen Harvelle."  
Daniel nodded. "And it has _nothing_ to do with the fact that their families are the richest in the room, right?"  
"Of course not, they've been asking for you. And their families aren't the richest in the room. They're the richest in the _state_." John said.

Daniel dutifully made his way over to them, mentally sighing to himself, it was going to be a long night... As predicted, Lisa did nothing but coo and fawn all over him, going on and on about how beautiful their children would be. Ellen, while quiet and reserved, had a quick flash of wit about her and when compared, Daniel found that he could bear Ellen's company a lot better than Lisa's. He excused himself after a while and made his escape up to the ballroom's balcony, where he people watched from the safety of the shadows.

"Enjoying your party Mr. Cranson?" a voice asked behind him.  
"You mean meat market?" Daniel asked cynically.  
"Such harsh words from one so young. Don't you want to meet your future wife?" the owner of the voice stepped up to Daniel's side, semi hidden in shadow.  
"No, not really. Women aren't really for me." Daniel admitted.  
"Oh, well then, perhaps I can help you find something that is." Daniel was finally able to get a good look at the owner of the voice and see that it belonged to a rather attractive man. He was dressed in browns and golds, with tan boots and his hair held back with a black ribbon. The other man held out his hand. "Gabriel Smith."  
"Daniel Cranson." Daniel replied shaking his hand.  
"I know. Youngest son of Johnathan Cranson, the famous cotton and tobacco grower."  
"I wouldn't say that." Daniel grinned.  
"None the less, it is a pleasure to meet you." Gabriel replied.

"So what brings you here to Charleston, Mr. Smith?" Daniel asked politely.  
"Honestly? I wanted to crash the party." Gabriel admitted sheepishly.  
"You came without an invitation?"   
"It was a party, it looked like fun. Little did I know it was actually a meat market."  
Daniel snorted a laugh. "Should I apologize for that?  
"Nah, it's been fun." Gabriel grinned.

"What is going on here?" John demanded, stepping onto the balcony. Daniel jerked back from Gabriel as if he had been burned. He blushed, too flustered to say anything to his father.  
"Nothing Mr. Cranson. I was just seeing if your son would be interested in an investment of mine." Gabriel lied smoothly, covering for Daniel.  
"Business, hmm? What kind?" John asked, curious as to how it could work with his plantation.  
"It's based in New Orleans, and is mainly textiles, but there's also some work with tobacco and indigo." Gabriel replied. "I was wanting to see if your son would be interested in using the land he'll inherit for a business venture."  
"Good, good. Nice to see him take an interest in the family business, but at the moment, he's needed back downstairs. Why don't you stop by for tea tomorrow afternoon Mr..."  
"Smith. Gabriel Smith." Gabriel said, producing a calling card from his pocket and handing it to John.  
"We'll see you tomorrow afternoon Mr. Smith The two of you can discuss business then." John concluded, taking the card.  
"Tomorrow, then." Gabriel agreed. He turned to Daniel to say his goodbyes.  
"It was nice meeting you Gabriel." Daniel said, shaking his hand.  
"That it was Daniel." Gabriel smiled at him, squeezing his fingers lightly.

John pulled Daniel back into the party, but all he could think about was Gabriel.

The following afternoon Gabriel came over for tea. Daniel's mother and sister found him utterly charming, his father was happy that Daniel was _finally_ taking an interest in the family business, and Daniel, couldn't stop himself from watching every move Gabriel made, even if he tried not to, and he had. He failed every time. So he just settled for a quick glance every now and then and would catch Gabriel's eye more often than not. Gabriel would smile and wink at him whenever he did.

Daniel tried to relax throughout tea, but with Gabriel sitting next to him, that was proving hard to do. Gabriel's hand or knee would brush against him whenever Gabriel reached for a cookie or one of the small sandwiches, and that sent shivers down Daniel's spine. He was certain that Gabriel had done it on purpose a few times. When the pleasantries had been discharged with, John left the two gentlemen to discuss the real reason for Gabriel's visit.

Business arrangements.

They actually _did_ talk about it and decided on a few things. Daniel would be allotting ten acres of his land to Gabriel to grow a mix of cotton, indigo and tobacco. Gabriel would pay him a flat fee for the use of the land, a percentage of the sale of the crops, and some of the crops themselves would be given to Daniel as part of his payment. The crops would be rotated every year and the land allowed to rest and taken care of as well. Daniel would also go to New Orleans to make sure things ran smoothly, a few times a year.

"And now that that's out of the way, let's talk about the elephant in the room. You like me, don't you?" Gabriel said, looking Daniel directly in the eye.  
Daniel turned scarlet and the teacup in his hand clattered into its' saucer as he set it on the table. Gabriel watched all of this with a small amused smile.  
"It's all right if you do, you know." he said, setting his cup down.  
"I know, but try explaining that to my father."  
Gabriel nodded. "Meet anyone at the party that you liked?"  
"Yes. My father is pushing for Lisa Brandon or Ellen Harvelle, but I actually liked Charlene Bradbury." Daniel replied.  
"Enough to marry her?"  
"It's what my father wants." Daniel looked down at his hands.  
"What about you? What do you want?" Gabriel asked, nibbling on a cookie.  
"I don't know, but I know I like you." Daniel admitted, stealing a quick glance at Gabriel though his eyelashes.  
"Talk to Charlene, see what she thinks." Gabriel advised. "And let your father know about her as well."

"You're going to ask Miss. Bradbury to marry you?" John asked Daniel, raising an eyebrow. He had hoped for his son to have better prospects. John had wanted Lisa or Ellen for a daughter in law, because their families had better standing and could open doors in the community that he couldn't. He tried to make his son see sense.  
"The Bradbury's aren't as well off as the Brandon's or the Harvelle's, at this rate, we'll be paying the bride's dowry."  
"Johnathan Cranson!" exclaimed his wife. "How _dare_ you try to make Daniel make a match he doesn't want. The Bradbury's are a perfectly good family and you know it." She turned to Daniel. "When you father proposed to me, my family was dirt poor. We were farmers and hunters and the crops had been bad that year. Your father asked for my hand with one knee in the dirt. He has no room to complain if you want this match."  
"Marilyn!" John hissed. "Don't say such things."  
"Oh shut up John, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. Besides, I know for a fact that her family is damn good at hunting, and I've heard that she's rather good with a rifle." Marilyn grinned.

The preparations for the wedding contract began soon afterwards. Charlene wasn't fooled by it at all.  
"You don't actually want to marry me, do you? I know we both enjoyed talking at the party and getting to know you has been very nice, but do you really want to be married?"  
"Why are you asking? Is the proposal not good enough for you?" Daniel asked in return.  
"I only ask because I'm very certain that _men_ are more to your liking, not women." Charlene replied.  
Daniel blanched at her words and tried to deny it, that he actually did want to marry her. Charlene just patted his hand. "It's all right, I have no problem with being married to you, because we're in the same boat. I like you, you're fun and interesting and being married to you would be good for me."

At Daniel's blank look, she explained. "I'm not getting any younger, I'm almost twenty-one, I should have been married off ages ago. But with my habit of scaring off men and liking women instead, it's been hard."  
"So a marriage of convenience then. What about children?" Daniel asked, thinking out loud.  
"What about them? We'll say we're trying, and after a few years, we can say that I'm barren." Charlene supplied, coming up with the perfect excuse.

"What's this?" Gabriel asked as Daniel handed him a cream colored envelope with his name in elegant black script on the front. The wax seal on the back was embossed with Daniel's family crest. Gabriel was pretty sure what it was, but asked anyway. He broke the red wax and removed the invitation. He read the words on the cream colored rag paper.

_You are hereby invited to the wedding of Mr. Daniel Robert Cranson and Miss. Charlene Maria Bradbury... blah, blah, blah._

He looked up at Daniel.  
"Please?" Daniel asked. "I'd be very happy if you came, so would Charlene. And this way you won't have to crash the party." Daniel laughed softly at that. "I'm serious Gabriel, please come. It would mean a lot to me if you did."  
"You're serious about this, even if it means that you have to live a lie." Gabriel said.  
"She knows that I prefer men. She prefers the touch of a woman, it would be a marriage of convenience for both of us."  
Gabriel looked down at the invitation. "Your families don't know do they?"  
"No. Will you be there?" Daniel asked.  
Gabriel nodded, signed the RSVP card and handed it back to Daniel.

In December of 1861, Daniel and Charlene were married. The wedding was a small one and sparsely attended, mainly due to the fact that South Carolina had become a part of the Confederate States of America, and that the effects of the war were starting to show. Those that could attend did enjoy themselves and Gabriel was able to see Daniel before the ceremony, slipping him a pair of silver cufflinks.  
"For luck." Gabriel said as Daniel put them on.  
Daniel thanked him and the wedding went off without a problem.

Their marriage was a quiet one, but both were very happy together. Charlene took the time to teach Daniel the finer points of how a rifle was shot and cared for. Daniel was grateful that she only laughed a little bit when he shot for the first time at the targets she had set up on a hay bale, and didn't hit anything.  
"Relax and loosen your grip, you're too tense." She took the rifle from him and showed him how to stand with it. "Try again." She gave him the rifle and helped him with hand placement. This time he clipped the hay bale.  
"Where did you learn to shoot so well?" Daniel asked during lessons one day.  
"Hunting." Charlene said, as she took the gun apart and began to clean it.

"Hunting" was the short answer. "Monster hunting" was the longer and more accurate one. What Daniel didn't know and what Charlene wasn't about to volunteer, was that her family were much more then gunsmiths and hunters. 

They were Hunters of the supernatural kind.

Her family had decided to settle down a few generations ago and become another resource for other Hunters. They still hunted in nearby areas, but they mainly made weapons, collected information, and used the animals they caught for spell components. The only one of Daniel's family that knew this, was his mother and she remained mute on the subject, because her side of the family did the same thing with their farm. They helped provide Hunters with much needed herbs for spell work, as medicine and for charms.

A few months into the marriage, some of the more nosy relations began to question when a baby would be coming along. Both Daniel and Charlene ignored these questions for the most part, but alluded to the fact that they were trying for a baby. In truth, the most that they had done was hold hands and kiss each other on the cheek. When either of them had the occasional nightmare, the other was willing to hold and console them, but nothing sexual had ever happened between them. Their love was that of friendship.

"Things are getting worse, we'll need to leave soon." Charlene whispered as she readied the horses, tucking away a container of black powder into her pack.  
"I know. Are you _sure_ that you need to do this?" Daniel asked as he lifted a bag into the wagon. The contents clinked together as the bag settled on the floor. The war was getting worse all around them, they would need to leave soon or they would have no where safe to go. The sooner they were out of South Carolina, the better.  
"I'll be fine while you're in New Orleans." Charlene replied. "Things aren't so bad that I need to stop gun running." Charlene swung herself up into the seat of the wagon. After arranging her skirts and cloak, she leaned down to kiss Daniel. "Go. Say hi to Gabriel for me." She picked up the reins and was off. Daniel watched her go, heading back to the house only when he couldn't see her anymore.

The trip back down to New Orleans was uneventful and for that Daniel was grateful. Gabriel knew he was coming, so he had booked Daniel a room at the hotel they normally stayed at, ahead of time and all Daniel had to do was check in. After doing so, he located Gabriel and explained what he wanted to do.  
"Dissolve our assets and go up north?" Gabriel asked.  
"Yes. Things are getting to dangerous here, it would be better to leave now, while we can." Daniel replied. "Charlene came up with the idea, you know she's a gun runner for the Union, getting out now would be safer for her and for myself."  
Gabriel thought about it, this war was bloody and only going to get worse, the time to leave safely was swiftly closing on them.  
"I'll get the paperwork started." he said.

The paperwork took the better part of a month to get in order and to make sure it was completed and filed correctly. During this time Daniel received a letter from home.  
"I need to get back to South Carolina." Daniel said, once he had opened and read the letter's contents.  
"What's wrong?" Gabriel asked.  
"Charlene is dead. According to the letter from her father, she caught pneumonia during her last gun run up north and died from it. I'll need to go back to pack up the house and plan the funereal."  
"I'll go with you."  
"Thanks, I know my leaving is rather sudden." Daniel smiled gratefully.  
"It's alright, this place was getting boring anyway."

Time just blurred together at points for Daniel. He remembered going home, talking to Charlene's family and the start of the funereal plans, but the next thing he remembered for sure, was seeing about getting the house packed up. The funeral was a blurry memory at best, and Daniel knew for sure that he'd never be able to smell orchids again, without remembering Charlene. And he's positive that he couldn't have made it through any of it without Gabriel beside him. Gabriel, who had introduced himself as a friend of the family and Daniel's business partner, and nothing more.

"Mr. Cranson, your father is here, he'd like to talk to you."  
"Thank you, Sara." Daniel replied, putting down the books he had been holding.  
"He's in the small parlor with Mr. Smith."  
"I'll be right down."  
Sara was the maid that they had hired, she helped clean the house and had been Charlene's personal maid. Now she was helping to oversee the packing up of the house.

Daniel went down into the parlor, he father stood up upon seeing him.  
"Daniel."  
"Father. Can I ask what you're doing here?"  
"I came to get you, it isn't safe here, we're moving further south. Once we're settled, we can see about getting you a new wife, though it is a shame that this one couldn't produce an heir."

Daniel couldn't believe what he was hearing. How dare his father say such things about Charlene."Don't talk about her like that, Charlene was a kind woman and a good wife. I have no interest in leaving with you and being mated off like a stud horse. I'm moving up north, Charlene and I had planned on leaving."  
"Am I hearing things? Did you say that you were leaving?" John demanded. "She did this, didn't she? Her and her family and their Yankee way of thinking? Oh, I knew that she wasn't good enough-"  
"I already said that we had been planning on leaving when Charlene died. And don't you _ever_ talk like that again about her. I loved her." Daniel growled.  
Gabriel swore he could feel his heart breaking.  
"She let me be myself. It's how I found out that I love him." Daniel said, tossing a nod to Gabriel.

Both of the other men stared at Daniel before exclaiming, "What?" in the same bewildered and confused tone.  
"I love him." Daniel repeated. "And nothing you can do or say will change that. Now if you don't mind, we still have some packing to do. Sara will show you out."  
As Sara showed John the door, Gabriel turned to Daniel. "You know, you could have told me that sooner."  
"I know, but the look on your faces was priceless."

They wound up settling in the state of New York and after establishing themselves, Daniel joined the local militia, something that infuriated Gabriel to no end.  
"Why?" he asked in anger "Why would you do this? Is it because of Charlene? Is that why?"  
"In a way. You know she was a gun runner for the North. I guess this is my way of honoring her memory."  
"By running the risk of getting yourself killed? How does that "honor" her?" Gabriel asked frostily. _"I can't protect you if you go off and do stupid things!"_ he thought.  
"I don't know. It just felt like the right thing to do."  
Gabriel sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, there where stupider reasons to join the army, but not many. "Well then, I guess I'm signing up with you. Got to keep you alive somehow."

And thus both Gabriel and Daniel became members of the 421st militia. Army life reminded Gabriel strongly of life in Heaven and made him glad that he had left. The one big difference, was that army life had Daniel in it and Gabriel was willing to put up with a lot, if it meant having Daniel with him. The fact that Daniel kept playing with the silver ring that Gabriel had given him, had nothing to do with it either. Or that's what Gabriel kept telling himself as he watched Daniel twist it around his ring finger with his thumb, his wedding band from Charlene was around his neck. So what if it was a lie, no one knew but him. They hadn't seen a lot of combat, but what they had, Gabriel had kept Daniel alive through it, tending to any wound that he had gotten. Daniel called him a mother hen for all that he did.  
"Again, got to keep you alive somehow." Gabriel replied.  
Things were just fine until the unit got new orders. They were going to Gettysburg.

Why on Earth were they being sent there? Gabriel had skipped ahead, he knew the bloodshed that awaited them, he needed to get Daniel out of here. Which was easier said than done. Daniel was looking forward to Gettysburg, even with the day of fighting they'd lose due to marching.  
"Daniel, this will be nothing like the skirmishes we've seen. It'll be a bloodbath, we're better off deserting now while we can."  
"Gabriel, we just can't leave." Daniel said.  
"Yes, we can! No one would care if we did." Gabriel argued.  
"I would. I'm not leaving. If you want to, go ahead."  
Gabriel knew he would say that, Daniel and his damn honor... "You know that would never happen without you."  
"Then we're staying."

Gabriel smothered a groan, come hell or high water, Daniel would survive this mess. They arrived at the end of the first day of fighting, rested overnight, and at dawn on the second day were pulled into battle. Gabriel had managed to stop several bullets from hurting or killing Daniel by staying close to him. A task that was as hard as he thought it would be. It was made a little easier by playing with their commander's mind a bit and having him put both Daniel and he in the same squad. Daniel had a habit of charging into things, either to take someone out or to bring someone back. Every time he did it, Gabriel was right behind him, consequently, they would both be verbally dressed down by their superior officer. Gabriel found that easy to ignore, pulling Daniel back to their tent afterwards to make sure he was really alright.

Everything was good until the end of the third day. The fighting was winding down and Gabriel and Daniel had just gotten the message that their squad had been called back to camp, to rest for the night. They were walking back, Daniel a little ahead of him, talking about what they wanted to do once they got back. Daniel was turned a little towards him to hear him better, when he flinched and doubled over, holding his stomach. Daniel dropped to the ground, blood spilling between his fingers.  
"Daniel!" Gabriel screamed as he saw his lover be hit and fall. Gabriel was at his side in an instant and held his hands over the wound trying to heal it.

Nothing happened, the blood still flowed.

Gabriel shook out his hands and then rubbed them together before holding them over the wound again. Again, nothing, something was blocking him, actively forcing the touch of his power away. Gabriel looked up, the doctor was coming, he had heard the shot. Gabriel slapped his hands on top of Daniel's and looked around, where the _hell_ had that shot come from? He saw something in the distance. Sitting on a white horse, was Odin with a rifle in his hands. Gabriel glared as Odin smiled at him and turned around to leave. Gabriel never wanted to go after someone so badly. He would have too, if Daniel hadn't clasped a hand around his and begged him to not leave. When Gabriel looked up again, the doctor was there and Odin was gone.

Daniel was removed to the medical tent and made as comfortable as possible. The doctors said that there was nothing that could be done for him, the wound was too severe. Daniel was going to die. Gabriel tried again to save him, but still to no avail. The wound had been dressed and Daniel was given some liquor for the pain. He held Gabriel's hand in his and focused on the man in front of him.  
"Gabriel."  
"Save your strength Daniel." Gabriel said, squeezing his hand.  
Daniel laughed weakly. "I'm dying and we both know it. Saving my strength doesn't matter anymore." He sighed and slid his ring off. He held out the ring to Gabriel, putting the ring in Gabriel's hand when Gabriel wouldn't take it. "Keep it. Remember me, I love you."  
Daniel closed his eyes and stopped breathing, his chest falling for the last time.

"No, no, no, no!" Gabriel shouted. "Daniel open your eyes! Damnit, open your eyes!" He shook Daniel by the shoulders, yelling for him to quit screwing around and wake up. Several pairs of hands pulled him away and towards another tent. He's vaguely aware of other people around him but heard only snatches of the conversation going on around him.  
"...take it well. Very unhappy."  
"The other man was a friend, I believe."  
"...in shock, keep an eye..."

Gabriel tuned them out and by the next morning, he had vanished, the ring on his finger. By the time they met again in 1923, Gabriel had completely immersed himself in the life of a Trickster.

 

**Present Time**

Sleep was ripped away from Dean as he bolted upright in his bed in a cold sweat, his stomach in knots and threatening to revolt on him. On the other hand, never mind the "threatening" part, it was going to do so with or without his permission. Dean just barely managed to get to the trash can next to the bed before dinner made a second appearance. The taste of bile burned in his throat and he spat to get rid of it. His mind swam with images as he hung his head over the can. None of it made any damn sense and once again with this dying shit, it was getting old! At least this time he had been a guy, so that was different. Dean closed his eyes and slowly put the trash can back down on the floor. The image of a red haired woman flashed behind his eyes, the words "I do." whispering through his ears. She was wearing an old dress, a white one, a wedding gown? Then the image of a brown haired man in a blue uniform chases the first one away, he smirks and cocks an eyebrow at Dean, the look quickly fading to one of worry. "Come away with me." he says. "It's safer."

There was a banging on the door and Sam burst in, Dean had just eased himself back down on the bed. _"If he keeps that up, his face'll freeze like that."_ Dean thought blearily as Sam asked if he was okay.  
"I'm fine." Dean lied. "Just something I ate, it didn't agree with me is all."  
"You can't keep eating all that junk." Sam said. "I'm not surprised one bit your stomach's rebelling on you." He sat on the edge of Dean's bed. "Are you still having those nightmares?"  
"No." Dean quickly replied. "But your damn feet are _more_ then enough to get and keep someone up, like a damn elephant, Sam. Seriously."  
"You look like hell Dean, I'm worried. Are you _sure_ you don't want to talk about it? You know I'm more than willing to listen."  
Dean snorted. "Thank you Samantha, but no, I'm fine."  
"Get you a drink of water before I go, at least?" Sam asked.  
Dean didn't turn down that offer, sitting up to drink, and waving Sam out of the room after one last offer to talk.

Dean laid back down, setting the glass on the nightstand. The dreams were happening with alarming frequency and he wasn't entirely sure that all they were, was dreams.


	5. Blackcreek, Colorado 1974

**Blackcreek, Colorado 1974**

Rufus checked his shotgun again before leaving the car. Setting the gun on the hood, he checked the rest of his supplies, hunting would take a few days. According to the papers, Blackcreek, Colorado was seeing an upswing in bear attacks on campers.

Bear attacks, right...

Rufus had gotten a tip about it from a friend, who had gotten it from another. Satisfied that he had what he needed, Rufus set off into the woods. Gabriel watched as Rufus headed out. He was the one that told Rufus's friend, he hoped it would be enough this time. Rufus had found the wendigo's tracks easily enough, it was tracking someone else in the woods.

The bonfire flared brightly into the night sky, the wood popping and crackling as it burned. Four teenagers, three boys, one girl were lying around it, talking and passing around a joint. This, mixed with the acid they had taken earlier, meant everyone was feeling rather good at the moment. One of the boys, a redhead by the name of Dave, got up and told the group at large that he would be right back; that he needed to pee. The others all gave varying degrees of acknowledgement and continued to watch the fire and talk.

After a while, one of the guys looked around and noticed that Dave still wasn't back. Derek looked around to be sure, nope he wasn't there. Derek brushed back a few of the braids he had let Sara put in his hair earlier, green eyes trying to focus more.  
"Where's Dave?" he asked.  
"Dave's not here, man." someone replied.  
"I'll go get him." Derek replied, trying to get up and failing.  
"Dude, you are _totally_ baked." Tim snorted. "Sara and I will go get him." Tim staggered to his feet and pulled Sara with him, they ambled off in the direction he had taken.

More time passed and none of them had come back. Derek vaguely remembered hearing a rustle after Tim and Sara had left. He got to his feet, swayed and staggered before getting his balance. He went off into the woods leaving the safety of the fire behind.  
"Tim! Sara!" Derek called out. He looked and peered around as he walked, calling for the others. "It's Derek, where are you?" He walked a few more steps. "This isn't funny!" Derek yelled.  
"Help me!" came a scream ahead of him, it sounded like Sara. "Derek! Help me!" she screamed. Yeah, it was Sara and she sounded bad.

The fog began to lift from Derek's brain and he began to run towards Sara's voice.  
"Help me Derek!" he heard just a bit ahead of him.  
"Sara!" he shouted back, trying to locate her.  
By now he had totally left the fire behind and was surrounded by darkness.  
"Over here! Help me Der-" Sara's voice erupted into a snarling scream followed by a thrashing in the underbrush. Derek stood where he was, his ears finally picking up on a dripping sound when a drop hit his cheek.

Derek looked up when another drop hit and saw the remains of a freshly torn apart body in the trees. Derek couldn't even tell who it had been until he saw the charm bracelet hanging off the left wrist. The chain had a Pisces symbol on it. The body was what was left of Sara, a few locks of bloodstained blond hair still clinging to her skull. There was a rustling in the bushes near Derek and something leapt out at him with a scream, plowing into him. He fell to the ground and scrambled to his feet, staring at the thing that hit him. Derek had no idea what he was looking at and when it screeched again, he took off running back the way he'd come. The thing behind him gave chase and Derek ran as if the hounds of Hell were after him. He fell back into the clearing in front of the fire when he heard what sounded like a gunshot, followed by a scream and another gunshot.

Derek flinched and whimpered, crawling closer to the fire. There was another shot and some thrashing nearby. A figure emerged from the woods. The last vestige of the drugs clung stubbornly to Derek's mind, to him the figure looked dark and foreboding, the firelight flashing off the barrel of the shotgun made it look like the gun was made of fire. Derek blurted out the first thing to come to mind.  
"Are you an angel?"  
The figure stepped closer into the light. "Do I _look_ like an angel to you?" Rufus asked. "Idiot hippie, angels aren't real." he muttered. Rufus hauled Derek to his feet. "You hurt?"  
"No. What was that thing?"  
Rufus was about to answer when a shriek pierced the air. "It's a wendigo and it's close."  
"But you shot it. Isn't it dead?" Derek asked.  
"Bullets don't kill it, just piss it off." Rufus replied, watching the shadows. "Only reason it hasn't attacked is because of the fire."

There was a rustle and a creaking sound to their left. The creaking got louder, sounding like something was being shoved and broken by the force. The creaking turned into cracking and a tree trunk came down and fell into the fire, scattering the dying embers and flame. The tree had been dead for a while, plunging them into darkness, the wendigo attacked. Rufus fired again, missing this time, but drawing the wendigo's attention to him.

The last of the drugs had cleared away from Derek's mind as Rufus fought the monster. He picked up a large hot branch from the remains of the fire, ignoring the pain it caused and swung at the creature. The wendigo screamed as the hot branch hit and sizzled across its skin. The creature back handed Derek into a tree, breaking the tree branch in the process. Derek staggered painfully to his feet and when the wendigo jumped at him, Derek yanked the branch up in between them, impaling the wendigo through the chest. The monster howled in agony as the heat from the branch began to melt its heart. Derek looked relived until he looked down. The branch had also impaled him right below his ribs. It had shoved in and up on impact. Rufus rushed over to him, looking at the wound, help couldn't come fast enough for Derek, nor could he get to it. The boy was going to die. Rufus felt kinda sorry for him.  
"There's nothing that can be done." He said to Derek. "I'm sorry. Best I can do is give you a Hunter's funeral."  
"Hunter? I'm not a hunter." Derek gasped out.  
"You're dying like one, you're getting it." Rufus replied. It was the last thing Derek heard before his body shuddered and his breath left him.

**Present Time**

Dean fell out of bed this time. _What. The. Hell._ Oh yeah, enough was enough. Dean's less than stellar wake up call had him fumbling in the dark and calling out for Sam.  
"Sammy, what did we use last time on the Trickster, a pine stake dipped in blood right?" Dean asked, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. "We still have a few stakes right?" Dean got up and sat on the bed, rubbing his forehead with his free hand as he turned on the light.  
"Yeah, Dean, we do. We'd need to get some fresh blood, but why are you asking, it didn't work either time we tried it." Sam replied; sleep still clogging his throat and mind. He winced at the bright light as it flooded the room and rubbed his eyes. They had tried having separate rooms, but this time, all they could get was one.  
"Just get one out of the trunk; I've got some stuff we need to talk about." Dean replied.

"Why do you need this?" Sam asked, as Dean let him back in. "And what's so important that you're feeling the need to talk about it?" Sam twirled the stake in his hands for a moment before Dean plucked it out of his grasp and stared at it, inspecting it. Sam sat on Dean's bed waiting for his brother to reply.  
"Dean." he prodded after a minute or two.  
"You know those dreams I've been having?" Dean asked as he began to pace the room, playing with the stake in his hands.  
Sam nodded. "Yeah."  
"They're more than just dreams."  
"Dude, if this is some weird sex thing, I don't-" Sam started to say.  
"They aren't sex dreams Sam." Dean snapped, cutting him off. "But every time I've dreamed about the Trickster, he's someone different and I keep dying."  
"Like the Mystery Spot?" Sam asked with a shudder, he never wanted to live through that again, and God help the Trickster if that's what he was doing to Dean.

Dean blanched at that thought. "It fucking better not be."  
"Okay, so if it isn't, why is he doing this to you? If it _is_ him, then where is he? The guy likes to watch and have a good laugh over things after all."  
"I have no idea." Dean admitted. .  
"Can you tell me about the dreams?" Sam asked.  
Dean nodded. "I probably should." Images flickered through his mind, where to begin, there was an awful lot and Dean didn't want to overload Sam and some of it he just couldn't bring himself to say. Not yet, anyway. Dean had no problems telling Sam about changing sexes.  
"Seriously? You've been a woman in these dreams? Weird." Sam asked flabbergasted.  
Dean nodded. "Yeah. But it really doesn't bother me."

But he did leave out the parts where he had been gay in one life and that he had been in love with the Trickster in every one of them. There were just some things that Sam didn't need to know.

"There's also this old man with one eye and gray hair, and no matter what happens to us, I end up dying. I've been shot, burned to death and stabbed."  
"Long gray hair?" Sam asked.  
"What difference does that make?"  
"Just tell me."  
"Yeah, long gray hair and he's the one who kills me." Dean said.  
Sam sighed. "Get packed, we're going to Bobby's."

Packing took no time at all. Dean came out of the motel's office to see Sam writing on the interior of the car with white quick-dry paint. Dean stopped in his tracks and watched as Sam wrote on the inside of his car. 

In paint.

"Sam, what the fuck are you doing to my car?" Dean demanded as he stalked the remaining few feet.  
"They're Nordic protection runes against evil." Sam said as he finished up and screwed the lid back on. The brush didn't need washing, it was attached to the lid. "Don't worry, it won't hurt the car."  
"You painted in my car!" Dean growled.  
"It'll wash right off, remember? Besides, I'm driving, you need some sleep on the way and do you really want to be attacked while we're driving?" Sam asked.  
Dean really didn't and grudgingly handed the keys over to Sam. "It damn well better come off." he muttered as he got into the passenger side.  
"It will, go to sleep." Sam assured him as he pointed the car towards Bobby's.  
Dean sighed and got comfortable. Before he knew it, he was asleep.


	6. Golconda, Illinois 1984

**Golconda, Illinois 1984**

John pulled up to the McDonald's. He turned off the Impala's engine and looked in the rear view mirror. "You guys hungry?" he asked.  
"Yeah!" came the reply as Dean bounced in his seat. The three went inside and soon they were settled at a table by the play area.  
"Can we go play?" Dean asked.  
"After you're done eating and my contact gets here." John said.

After a while the boys were done and John's contact had shown up, a brown haired man who called himself Derek McCall and had a taste for milkshakes. John introduced the boys and then sent them to go play before getting down to business.  
Derek handed John a few sheets of paper that had been folded in half. "Here's the spell and what's needed for ingredients. Are you sure you don't need any help with this? I'd be more than happy to help." 

The spell was a heavy duty exorcism for a section of the Ohio River. According to historical records, in 1838, about thirteen thousand Cherokee Indians had used that point to cross on the Trail of Tears by ferry. They had been forced to wait until the ferry was good and ready to take them; they were normally the last group carried and were charged more money to do so then other people. When the boats weren't taking them, they were forced to take shelter on the Kentucky side of the river under a nearby bluff. Several of the tribes folk starved to death waiting for passage or they were killed by locals in the area. Bodies were buried where and when they could be, but for the most part the graves went unmarked.

Until construction of the bridge started on the Illinois side, the ghosts had mostly stayed dormant. There was the occasional report of seeing ghostly Native Americans along the banks and in the water, but that was it. But now with the construction, things where beginning to happen, namely boats on the river were being attacked. The victims where scalped and their bodies showed signs of being shot with arrows, but no arrows could be found either in or around the bodies. The boats had damage as well, as if they had been hit with knives, arrows and tomahawks. No weapons had ever been found at any of the crime scenes.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine." John replied, glancing between the pages in his hand and where the boys were, up in the suspended maze. Derek's gaze followed John's, watching them as they crawled around.  
"If you change your mind, use this." Derek handed him another sheet of paper. "It's to call a helpful spirit. It also works as a protection spirit."  
John thanked him, tucking the papers away. Before long Dean came running up to the two men, needing John's help with Sam.  
"I'll see what he needs, you finish eating." Derek said, getting up. "Show me where he is Dean." John stayed where he was.

"What did you do to my dad?" Dean asked as they walked away from the table. John never moved, it was like Dean had never come up.  
"I didn't hurt him, just giving him a few moments of rest, that's all. Why, what do you think I did?" Derek asked, looking down at Dean.  
"I think you're a Jedi and that you used The Force."  
Derek laughed. "Something like that, yeah. I think I like you Dean."

They reached Sam and with Dean's help, Derek was able to help Sam untangle himself from the climbing net that he had gotten stuck in. After making sure Sam was okay, the three of them went back to the table, and it was like none of the past few minutes had happened. The four of them talked, Derek doing his best to keep Sam and Dean entertained and distracted to give John a break. They liked Derek's magic tricks the best, things appearing out of thin air and from behind their ears made them laugh. But soon it was time to go. John was strapping Sam into his car seat in the back while Dean was saying goodbye to Derek.

"It'll be all right kiddo, your dad will be just fine." He squeezed Dean's hand. "Here, this is for you." Derek slipped a silver chain over his head and held it out to Dean. From the chain dangled a silver ring. "The ring is a protection charm. As long as you have it, you will always be safe. It can also work to protect others."  
Dean looked at the chain that Derek offered and then at Derek. "Why give this to me, why not my dad?"  
"Your father will be just fine." Derek repeated. "I want you to have this."  
Dean took the necklace and put it on, sliding it under his shirt, the metal was warm against his skin.  
"Come on Dean, we're ready." called John.  
"Thank you." Dean said before getting into the Impala.  
"You're welcome Dean." Derek whispered, watching them drive away.

**Present Time**

Dean woke up with a jolt and a loud gasp. He leaned his head back, willing his heart to return to its regular pace.  
"Another dream?" Sam asked.  
"No, a memory. Dad knew the Trickster." Dean said, not believing it himself.  
"What? When did this happen?" Sam took his eyes off the road briefly to stare at Dean.  
"Watch the road. It was when we were kids. I don't remember all the details, but Dad was meeting him for some help on a job."  
Sam turned his attention back to the road. "I don't remember meeting the Trickster before."  
"You were two and my memory is hazy at best." Dean said. "How long til Bobby's?" Dean asked, wiping sleep from his eyes.  
"About an hour." Sam replied. "I called ahead and told him what was going on; he should have something for us when we get there."  
"I hope so." Dean whispered.

The moment they rolled into Bobby's front yard, the door opened and Bobby came out onto the porch. The boys got out of the car, stepping lightly up the steps as Bobby said hello.  
"Sam said you might have found something that could help." Dean said as they went inside.  
"I think I found your guy, and if Sam and I are right, you are in for a world of hurt." Bobby called over his shoulder as he walked back to his desk and picked up a book. The boys followed and waited as Bobby found what he was looking for.

The book was old; the leather was cracked and dry with age. The color might have been red once, but the book was so old that you couldn't tell any more. The pages were thicker then modern paper and had yellowed with age. Bobby turned the book around and handed it to Dean.  
"He look anything like this?"  
Dean took the book and looked down at the picture. In it, there was an old man surrounded by wolves, with black birds circling over head. He carried a staff and had one missing eye; his face was grizzled and scarred.

The sight of it caused Dean to yelp as if he was in pain and drop the book. The image also knocked loose a quick flash of memory. One of the Trickster and one eyed man fighting, their shadows and power spread out around them. The book hit the floor and Dean fell to his knees, gasping in shock.  
"Dean!" both Bobby and Sam yelled, making a grab for him.  
"That's him." Dean choked out, scrambling to get away from the book.  
Sam picked it up and began to read aloud. "Odin is the King of the Norse gods, he is known as the All Father and is the father to Thor, Loki and..." Sam rattled off a few more facts before stopping. "I don't get it. What's Odin got to do with Dean?"

Bobby flipped a few pages ahead for him and pointed to a passage. "According to that, Loki and Odin had a falling out a _damn_ long time ago." Bobby angled the book towards him and began to read.


	7. Scandinavia, 400 A.D.

**Scandinavia, 400 A.D.**

It all started off as a trick. If sending a frost troll rampaging through someone's home because you're bored, could be counted as a trick. But that's exactly what Loki had done and now the family that had lived there got to pay the price for it. He was having a grand time, watching the troll tear the family to shreds, when one of them decided to fight back. And she did it with an oil lamp of all things. The girl had managed to grab it and smash the lamp over the troll's back. The troll went up in flames instantly, screaming as it turned to ash. Loki swore under his breath. That _wasn't_ supposed to happen, she was supposed to die like the others, not fight back.

Well damn, what the hell was he supposed to do now? Should he send another one? Nah, he hated repeating himself and besides, she just kinda ruined everything with killing the first one. And he really just couldn't leave her here with her house gone and all; she'd freeze to death in the coming storm. 

Plus, he was now interested in her, so why the hell not.

Loki quickly conjured up a team of horses, a covered wagon and various assorted odds and ends to help him with his cover. With a snap of his fingers, Loki garbed himself in traveling clothes and got into the front seat of the wagon, pulling up to where the girl was.  
"Are you alright girl? I saw the smoke a ways off and thought someone would need help." he asked.  
"Who are you?" The girl demanded, whirling around at the sound of his voice.  
"I am naught but a humble traveler, what happened here, are you alright?" Loki replied.  
"A frost troll killed my family." she replied. "I need to get to town."  
"I'd be happy to help you, but we won't be getting far tonight, there's a storm coming."  
"Thank you, but I wouldn't want to burden you." The girl began to walk away after kicking some dirt on the smoldering remains of the fire pit to be sure the flames were out.  
"It is no burden, please get in." Loki jumped down to help her up.  
The girl got in on her own and they were soon off.

The storm came faster than they had expected, and the two didn't get far before they had to stop and settle in for the night. Loki offered her a thick fur blanket to wrap herself in while he took care of the horses. After snapping the horses away, he climbed back into the wagon, tying the canvas behind him.  
"As soon as the storm is over, we'll be on our way." Loki said, lighting a small lamp and hanging it on a hook in the center of the wagon. The light shone down and the girl could see what was filling the wagon.  
"So what are you carrying to town?" she asked, looking at the boxes.

Crap. He hadn't thought that far ahead. He said the first thing to come to mind. "Honey mead."  
"Honey mead?" she asked, skeptically.  
"From further south."  
She looked at the boxes again. "In boxes? In the winter?"  
"It's warmer down south and the boxes keep the casks from rolling around." Loki replied.  
She looked at him dubiously, but didn't say anything else.  
"Drink?" he asked, producing a wine skin and two mugs. He filled both mugs, handing her one.  
"Thank you."  
Loki was a little disappointed when she only had a few sips before she decided to turn in for the night.

Loki watched her while she slept and listened to the wind howl outside, Skadi was in rare form tonight, while he thought about what to do to the girl. He ran over his options.

Option # 1: Killing her wasn't really an option anymore, it had proved to be no fun. Besides, knowing his luck right now, she'd just kill whatever he sent after her.

Option # 2: Stranding her was boring too. Again, they were in the middle of nowhere and what would be the point. 

Option # 3: He could just fuck her. As much as he _really_ loved that idea, it was way too damn predicable. Glamoring her to love him also fell under this because there was no challenge in it.

Loki thought about it for awhile longer when it occurred to him that he could make her fall in love with him. Loki grinned at that, his smile one of utter mischief. He'd take his time getting them to town and by the time they _had_ reached town, she'd be eating out of his hand. Loki laughed to himself, it was perfect! And after that, he'd _die_ in some horrific fashion. He wasn't too clear on that part yet, but he'd figure it out before he'd get them to town.

"Time to wake up." He said, lightly shaking her awake the next morning. She opened her eyes, yawning.  
"Morning. The storm's over?"  
"Yes. I'll take care of the horses and we'll be on our way again."  
It was slow going, Skadi had really let things rain down last night. The woods were quiet, the only sounds that of the horses breaking through the snow and the creak of the wagon.  
"How old are you?" Loki asked, just to fill the void.  
"Eighteen." came the reply.  
"I'm surprised you aren't married yet." Loki said.  
She sighed. "My father had yet to be asked or made a suitable offer for me."  
"Do you mind if I ask what happened with the frost troll? They don't normally attack people." Loki asked, knowing damn well what had gone on.  
"I know." She tried to stop the tears, but they fell anyway.  
 _"Oh damn. I didn't mean for this to happen."_ Loki thought. He quickly put his arm around her and tried to comfort her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to cry."  
She sniffled and cried for a few more minutes. "It's alright." She nuzzled against his shoulder and drifted off to sleep.

Or at least she made it look like she was asleep against his shoulder. In truth, she was still awake and faking being asleep. She didn't need him getting any closer to her, there was something different about him. The day passed on in silence and towards twilight she suggested stopping to eat, if not for the night.  
"Surely you must be hungry. You haven't stopped all day." she pointed out to him.  
Truth but told he didn't need to but it would help with the illusion that he was trying to paint around him. Mentally cursing this fact, Loki pulled the horses to a stop, before letting the reins go slack in his hands.  
"If you'd like to get some sleep as well, I can also take over the horses, help make up for the time you've lost in helping me." she said. If anything, it could give her an opportunity to snoop. The cart is far too light to be carrying barrels of mead.  
Loki nodded, she was right, as much as he hated to admit it.  
"Keep an eye out for trouble and call if you need me." he said, before climbing into the back of the wagon.

Loki spent most of the night tossing and turning, trying to come up with ideas to delay the girl and coming up with a lot of nothing. He laid in the dark and waited for morning. Early the next morning Loki got up and slipped into the front seat next to her. He watched the girl drive the horses, irritation making him frustrated that things weren't working in his favor. Something in his gaze must have tipped her off because when she looked over at him, she asked if he was okay.  
"I'm fine." Gabriel lied. He took the reins from her and offered to let her get some rest.  
"I can stay up for a bit longer." came the reply as she popped her neck and stretched as much as she could in her seat. She stared into the distance as they rode on.  
"You asked yesterday about the frost troll..."  
Loki nodded. "We could skip that part if you like. Maybe talk about your family?" He really didn't care, but it would keep her busy. "Maybe you could tell me your name?"  
"My name isn't important anymore. There's no one that would care to use it left."  
"Your uncle?" Loki asked.  
"Just calls me girl. I don't think he bothered to remember my name when I was born. I'll be surprised if he'll take me in. I know he and father didn't part on good terms."  
"Oh. Sorry, didn't mean to bring up bad memories." Loki said. Why the _hell_ was he being so nice with her? He honestly didn't really give a damn about her, so why was he doing all of this? Oh yeah... curiosity.

She continued to talk about her family but Loki had semi tuned her out while he started looking over his options of what to do with her again. Or he did until she slipped her arms through his, their fingers brushing together, and laying her head on his shoulder.  
"I never really told you thank you did I?" she asked. She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you.I feel a lot safer with you here."  
"You're welcome." Loki started to lean his head towards her, but she leaned her head back down, nuzzled into his neck and dozed off again.  
 _"Son of a bitch!"_ Loki whispered.

Day three is when things started to get confusing, if not down right _infuriating_ , because for all that she still refused to give her name, she was more than happy to start flirting with him. Loki didn't know if he wanted to strangle her as a way to ease his frustration or start kissing her in earnest. She just escalated things even more on day four by kissing him good night and then going to bed in the back of the wagon. Loki cursed the fact that supernatural beings were more than capable of getting blue balls.

Day five was both a blessing and a curse because Loki "woke up" to her kissing him. Not giving her a chance to react, Loki tangled his hands in her hair, pulling her flush against him, before rolling her under him. She whined as Loki bit at her mouth, rolling his hips forward. They kissed for several minutes before she called a stop to things, using the mead as her excuse, she didn't want him to be too late delivering it. In truth, she knew that they were just a day outside of the town, if she could hold on for that long ,she would soon be rid of him; whatever he was.

Day six was going to be Loki's last chance to woo her, but before he could do anything, she had spotted the village in the distance.  
"We'll be there soon. This afternoon or evening, I think." She smiled, drawing Loki's eye to the dark smudge on the horizon and to the fact that he hadn't been able to delay her for longer.  
"Why so it is. We'll be going to your uncle's home correct?" He asked, as he mentally swore a blue streak.  
She nodded. "After I tell him what happened to father, he should take me in."  
Soon the village gates were reached and she explained what had happened to her family and that her uncle lived inside.  
"Poor child. I know your uncle, he's a good man." One of the guards said as they opened the gate.  
"Thank you." she replied as they entered the village.

As they came to a stop in front of her uncle's home, she got out of the wagon's front seat and asked Loki to wait here, she'd be back soon. As she walked to the house and went inside, Loki got down as well and pretended to inspect the horses and the wagon while he waited.  
 _"No one here but a humble traveler."_ he thinks as people and time pass by. After about forty minutes or so, Loki was bored of waiting and had begun to debate about what to do to entertain himself. _"I could turn her into a monster; have the other villagers kill her."_ he thought at first. _"Or I could teleport her to a dimension where there are nothing but monsters."_ He had given this idea some considerable thought, when it hit him: _"I know! I'll fuck her and then turn into her dead father and blame her for the attack. She'll be scarred for life! It's perfect!"_ He grinned as he leaned against the wagon.

Right then, the front door to the house opened and an older gentleman stepped out. His brown hair was shot through with gray and his bread gave him a slightly grizzled appearance. His eyes settled on Loki and he walked towards the wagon.  
"Young man, my niece told me what you did for her. Thank you for bringing her here, she will be well taken care of, I'm her only family now."  
"You're welcome sir, I'm just glad that I could help." Loki replied.  
"My niece would like to thank you as well."  
This perked Loki's ears up. "Really? How?" he asked.  
"With herself."

At that everything in Loki's brain locked up. It worked. It had _actually_ worked. The only thing he could think was _"I'm gonna get laid. I sent the fucking troll after her family and I'm gonna get laid as a thank you."_  
"However," her uncle started to say. "you've been traveling for the past several days, you can't go to her smelling like that."  
Loki glanced down at his traveling clothes, he uncle had a point, and Loki was never one to turn down a free bath. After he had enjoyed a soak and cleaned himself up, Loki tied a robe around himself and strutted out of the bathroom.  
"I'm back here." she called from a back room.

Loki smiled, she wasn't his first virgin, she wouldn't be his last. He was in a good mood and planned on sleeping with her twice before the night was out, maybe three times if he felt like it. When he entered the room, it was entirely lit with candles, they covered every possible surface. The girl herself, lay on her side wrapped in a bear skin blanket on a plush pile of furs, the skin wrapped invitingly around her body. She tilted her head to the side, hair sliding around her shoulders and smiled at him.  
"Come in." she said.

Yeah, definitely fucking her three times just for this. 

He stepped into the room and began to walk toward her a smile on his lips. His attention was so focused on her, that he didn't notice the third person in the room until it was too late. Loki saw more than felt the pine stake burst from the center of his chest, the bloody tip pointing outward. He stared at it for a moment, dumbfounded, before the chanting reached his ears. He looked around the room and could now see the banishing symbols that he had missed before. He looked back at the girl, she was sitting up on her knees now as her uncle chanted.  
"You _tricked_ me." he said to her before falling to the ground and dissolving.

"You bitch!" were the next words out of his mouth as he sat up, banished back to Asgard.  
Sat up _naked_ in Asgard.  
Sat up naked in Asgard with all the other gods honestly _laughing_ at him. No one laughed at Loki. He glared at all of them as he snapped some clothing back on.  
"That was great! Saw it coming a mile away and you still fell for it!" Baldur laughed and clapped. "What are you going to do for an encore?"  
 _"Shut up Baldur."_ Loki growled as he stood and dusted himself off.  
"No, he's right, you foolish child. What are you going to do now?" Odin asked, coming up to Loki.  
Loki stood there for a moment, fuming. "I'll think of something." he bit out, not being able to see much beyond his own rage at being tricked so easily and then laughed at for it. "I'm going to get her, along with her family, her friends and anyone who's ever met her."

The first two months were spent deep in a bloodthirsty rage, planning her death. It would be painful and brutal for her, fun and bloody for him. Months three through five saw Loki finessing the plan he had come up with and sulking because he couldn't put it into action yet. He was stuck in Asgard for at least an Earth year and none of the other gods would help him at all. They still found it very funny and would giggle over it still. Months six through ten, Loki was just really damn bored, not being able to go to Earth really sucked, badly. The eleventh month saw a brief stint back into rage at the girl and towards the end of it, he began to see the trick for the genius it was, and could appreciate it. During that last month, he'd not been that mad with her, and while he still kinda wanted to kill her, Loki mainly just wanted to know how she did it.

He started off in the village where he had left her the previous year. She wasn't there, and when Loki asked around, he was told that she and her uncle had left about a year before. A few days after they had banished him. Loki widened his search looking in all the villages in the area before he found a traveling merchant that knew people fitting their descriptions. The merchant told Loki about them and where they could be found. Loki paid the man for his time and flew to the location of where the girl could be.

The house and land were well warded, stepping onto the land made Loki's skin tingle and his hair stand on end. He looked at the land and house and thought about how to go about things. He couldn't just go in and get her, just because things were warded, didn't mean the she was there. And if she was, he'd need to be careful, another banishment would not be welcome. Nor could he just send in more monsters, if this was a Hunter's home, they'd just kill them all, or be killed by them. Loki decided to sit back and watch for now, he'd start getting answers soon enough.

After a week, he knew that she was there, along with her uncle and that he was teaching her to be a Hunter. Loki watched as she left the house one day, a basket in her hand. He followed her, staying a few feet behind her, even though he was invisible. He watched as she began to gather herbs, still standing behind her, this time turning himself visible. He kept his mouth shut as he watched her work, admiring her ass and staying away from the knife she had tucked in her skirt. When it was obvious that she wasn't going to be turning around anytime soon, Loki cleared his throat to get her attention. He almost hated to do it; her ass looked amazing in the skirt she was wearing.

At the sound of Loki clearing his throat, the girl spun around and gasped when she saw him.  
"By the Gods!" She stared at him good and hard, he's supposed to be dead.  
"Not all of them." Loki replied, shaking his head. "Just one, me. Loki."  
The girl went dead pale at hearing that. They had banished the God of the Tricksters last year. _"And I'm going to die for it."_ she thought.  
She was trying to come to grips with that, when he smiled at her and said,  
"Calm down, I 'm not going to kill you. Well I _was_ , but then I decided that I want to make a deal with you instead."  
"A deal?" she asked, confusion clearly written on her face. Why would Loki want to make a deal with her? Well whatever his reason was, she was willing, as long as it kept her alive.  
"Yes, a deal."  
"What kind?" she asked warily. She wasn't stupid, while she wanted to live, she also wanted to know the terms of what she was agreeing to.  
"I want to know how you did it. How did you trick me?" Loki asked her. "Seriously, how? I have _never_ been caught that badly off guard. I mean you caught me literally with my pants down, and that hasn't happened since Lu-" Loki cut himself off; it wouldn't do him any good to mention Lucifer now. "Since forever, I mean." he finished lamely.

The girl nodded. "Alright." _"If I make a deal with him and start back toward the house, I can take care of him there."_  
"Good then." Loki held out his hand and she took it.  
As they shook hands, a spark of electricity passed between them. Their breath caught in their throats as the energy zipped up their arms. Neither knew what to make of it, so they shook it off as the tingle faded away. Loki flexed his fingers as he looked at her, something in his mind insisting that he _did_ know what it was. But that was impossible, that didn't happen with angels, Loki ignored it instead.

"So how could you tell? What gave me away?" he asked.  
She picked up the basket and began to walk back the way she had come.  
"You're a terrible liar." she admitted. "The boxes around barrels? That's bad. But mainly it was the mead. Any bees that would have been out would have died. It was winter, remember?"  
"That's right, honey mead was the best I could come up with on very short notice." Loki replied. "I'll need to remember that." He pretended to write himself a note in the air. "Note to self: Take weather into account for future tricks."  
She laughed at that.  
"You never did tell me your name." he smiled at her. "It's bad manners."  
"It's in good self-preservation not to give it to a God." she said. "Too much of a chance of it being used against you."  
"Aw, do I look like a God who would do that?" Loki asked. "Come on, do I?"  
"A little."  
"I'm hurt, I really am. I thought we had something." Loki sniffed fakely.

She smiled at that. Their hands brushed together as they walked. They were close enough to the house that she could reach one of the banishing spells that was hidden in the trees. It was a Norse one, it would work on him. She stopped near one of them and Loki leaned in, wanting to kiss her. Their mouths nearly touched as she pulled on a hidden rope and the skin the spell was on, fell open. It didn't work, instead of the spell, it was the jingle for Oscar Meyer. She looked at it in confusion; she couldn't make out the words, but knew it wasn't the spell.  
"Nice try, I thought you might do this." Loki said softly as he pulled away from her. "I don't blame you, still not going to hurt you."

The door to the house opened and Loki could see it was her uncle.  
"You should go to him, we'll finish talking later." Loki told her, turning himself invisible.  
The girl stared at the spot where he had been and then walked away.  
"What took you so long?" her uncle asked.  
"Sorry, got a little lost." she replied. The two talked for a moment before going inside the house.  
Loki turned himself visible when they were inside.

"You're supposed to kill her. Not chat her up." came a voice from behind him. "You _were_ going to kill her right?" Odin asked.  
"I'm thinking about it." Loki said, turning around.  
 _"Thinking about it?!"_ Odin exclaimed. "You had a _year_ to think about it. You _did_ come up with a plan right?"  
Loki remained silent.  
"Right?" Odin demanded.  
"I did!" Loki exclaimed defensively. "I... just don't know if I want to use it, is all."  
 _"Don't want to use it?"_ Odin yelled. "Loki, she needs to be made an example of!"  
"You don't think I know that?" Loki retorted hotly.  
"No, I don't think you do." Odin growled. "Loki, they are a source of power for us. Not punishing one when it's needed, makes you look weak, and will weaken you if they don't fear or respect you. If you _don't_ kill her, I will." he threatened.  
"Like fucking _hell_ you will." Loki hissed as Odin tried to step around him to set fire to the house."They're just a bunch of Hunters, what use are they to us?"  
"Stand aside Loki and I will show you why they should fear us."

Loki shoved Odin away. "I said no. I won't let you hurt her. I'll kill you before you _ever_ lay a hand on her."  
"How _dare_ you!! I made you and this is the thanks I get?" Odin asked. "I took you in when you were nothing but a little lost angel, Gabriel. Do you remember that? I made you a part of my family, gave you a new name and new power, and this is how you repay me? I am a God and you repay me by protecting that human _vermin_?"  
"Oh _really_?" Loki asked, glaring at Odin. "Because I remember when the world was young and you were nothing but a snow fairy."  
Odin flushed with rage. "I made you and I can break you whenever I want. Now stand aside." he growled.  
Odin waved his hand and there was a howl in response, several of them. A stream of thick gray fog rushed past the two of them and Loki could make out the heads of wolves, a cluster of bears, a stag, and they were all being herded by black dogs. 

He had called The Wild Hunt to deal with this girl.

"No." Loki repeated. "You are just like my brothers, a parasite. You are a snow fairy and you will always be a snow fairy."  
"Don't you call me that! I am Odin! I am the All Father, King of the Norse Gods! _I am a God!_ "  
"You're a _snow fairy_!" Loki snarled back at him. "You are a fucking snow fairy that got _lucky_ when you showed some lost humans the way home and they began to pray to you!"  
"No I am not!" Odin screamed. "If you will not show me the respect I deserve, then you will pay the price for it, with her life." Without a word uttered, The Hunt attacked the house.

The spirits were held off by some of the spells and wards, but most of them made it through, the girl and her uncle moved to defend themselves. If they were going to die, they would do so fighting.  
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill her." Odin said as the animals surrounded the girl's home and began to attack in earnest. Hearing the howls and bellows of them was the last thing Loki wanted.  
"Well?"  
"Because I love her." Loki replied. It took him all of two seconds to realize that it was true. "But that's impossible." he whispered to himself. "It doesn't happen to angels, we don't have soul mates." he said, remembering the tingling electricity. _"And you haven't been entirely angel in how long?"_ a voice in his head asked. _"How many centuries have you spent fucking your way through various beds and indulging your every whim and desire?"_

Odin laughed. "They are not for us to love, you fool. They are for us to take power from."  
The smash of glass reached the two gods and Loki turned to go to her.  
"Oh no you don't!" Odin yelled and tackled Loki to the ground. "She _will_ die!"  
"No!" Loki screamed, thrashing and shoving Odin away. With a thought Loki's sword appeared in his hand, growing in length and power as he stood up. He hadn't wanted to call on his grace, but he needed it now, if she was to stand even a sliver of a chance of survival, he'd need every bit of help he could get. Loki swung at Odin, the sword tip slicing across the other god's face and taking out his eye.

Odin howled in pain and clutched at his ruined eye socket. "If you claim to love her as much as you do, Loki, then you will never have her. I'll make sure of it. For all of time you will never be with this soul. Even if Ragnarök happens, you will never be together; you will never know happiness with each other." Odin took his hand away from his face and spattered the gathered blood onto the ground. It hissed where it hit the dirt. "So I have decreed. From this day forth, you shall not know true happiness with this soul, nor shall you be welcomed in Asgard. To return there is to die."  
Loki lunged at Odin again with his sword. Odin pulled back, abandoning the fight and taking the animals with him.

Loki sighed and went into the clearing, knowing damn well what he would see. The house was in ruins, blood and debris littered the ground. She was dead; he didn't need to see her body to know that, he could feel it. He needed to leave, now; otherwise he'd be getting some attention he'd rather avoid. Loki turned his back on the clearing and vanished. He'd need to stay hidden for a while, just in case, but it wouldn't be too hard to avoid the other angels, they were a rather uncreative lot to begin with.

**1692, England**

She was back, he could feel her. He let his senses roam and pinpointed the location exactly. Salem, Mass. He could be there soon.


	8. Meanwhile in Seattle

**Present Time, South Dakota**

Bobby closed the book. "And that's it, Dean is more or less the child in the divorce, so to speak."  
"All because Odin didn't want Loki to be happy, because Loki insulted him?" Sam asked.  
Bobby nodded. "Yep."  
"Son of a bitch." Dean groaned. "I need a drink."  
"So all of this is because Loki and Odin are fighting over Dean?" Sam asked. "Because Loki fell in love with her? Sorry, him."  
"Looks like it." Bobby agreed.  
"One more time, I need a damn drink." Dean groaned as he poured himself a glass.

It was Sam who got the bright idea to look through John's journal for anything on the Trickster. They hadn't found much, mainly a bunch of phone numbers. Both Sam and Dean sighed as they split the list in half and began to dial. Most of the numbers were dead but Sam did manage to get a hold of someone with one of the numbers.

"Hello?" asked the woman on the other end. She had an accent, Indian from what Sam could guess.  
"Hello. My name is Sam Winchester, I'm doing a research paper on old Nordic legends and Gods. I'm looking for information on Loki and Odin in particular and a story concerning them."  
The woman on the other end stayed silent for a moment before saying, "I'm afraid I don't know anything about what you're talking about. I'm sorry, but I can't help you." she replied. "I suggest that you lose this number and not call again." She quickly hung up and Sam sighed as crossed the number off the list.

**Meanwhile, Present Time, somewhere in Seattle**

Kali sighed huffily, setting the phone back down. She knew who Sam Winchester was, and his father as well. When John Winchester died, it had caused celebrations in various circles of pagans. The fact that Sam was asking questions about Loki wasn't lost on her either. She wasn't sure why he was, but it couldn't be a good thing.

Loki had been dodging her questions lately. Granted, they weren't completely monogamous to begin with, but they had always told each other before when they had taken another lover. Loki was keeping something from her. Kali set the quartz bowl on a mat on the table before pouring spring water into it from the pitcher in her hand. She sat down, waiting for the ripples in the bowl to dissipate, holding a quartz crystal on a silver chain in her hand. The water became still and Kali held the crystal above the water and began to swing it in a gentle circle. Both the crystal on the chain and the bowl began to glow faintly, the light infusing the water. Kali set the chain down and stared at the water as the light refracted and clouded over in it. She got a hazy image of Loki, a ring, a woman and then a man, but then the bowl clouded over and refused to show her anything else. The images did nothing but confuse her, she would have been totally fine with Loki having another lover, if he had told her. The fact that he hadn't irritated her. Kali rubbed her temples while the water cleared.

Odin looked up from the paperwork he was doing. Someone was trying to scry on Gabriel. Odin waved his hand and the mirror on the wall across from him turned dark, wiping the room's reflection from its surface. The mirror cleared after a minute and showed him who it was.

Kali. And she looked irritated.

Odin smiled as he got up to get his coat, this should be fun.

While Kali was putting the bowl away, there was a knock on the door. Glowering, she opened the door to see who it was.  
"What do you want old man?" She asked, seeing Odin on the other side.  
"Hello to you too, Kali." Odin replied, stepping into the penthouse apartment that Kali and Gabriel shared.  
"Nice place. Having fun playing house with Loki?" he asked. He didn't miss the subtle flinch at Gabriel's other name. "Or not. Trouble in paradise?"  
At Kali's glare, he knew the answer was yes.

"It's infuriating. I tried to scry, but what I got back, made no sense whatsoever."  
Hearing this made Odin smile, he saw his opening and took it. "Oh really? What kind of images did you get back? Perhaps I can help unravel them, maybe over dinner?"  
Kali thought about it for a moment. "You're paying." she told him, turning to get her jacket.

"That's all it showed you, Loki, a woman, a man and a ring." Odin asked. He put down his fork. "What did they look like? The man and the woman, I mean." The descriptions that Kali gave him matched Daniel and the first girl. He didn't care about the ring.  
"I was afraid something like this would happen eventually. I'm just sorry that you got caught in the middle of it all, it isn't fair to you, what he's doing." Odin took a sip from his wine glass.  
"What are you talking about?" Kali asked, her interest in the plate in front of her, gone.  
"Loki loves another; you are not what he wants. You are not the one he holds dear, the one he waits for, time and again."  
"Again, what are you talking about?" Kali asked.

Odin sighed sadly, putting down his glass and playing up the friend with bad news, for all it was worth. "Loki has... been _involved_ , I guess you could say, with someone else for some time now. It's been happening on and off for ages, I'm surprised that he hasn't told you about her. Or him." he said, shrugging. He went on to tell Kali about the various lives that the two had shared.  
"You remember that "business trip" he had to go on and was gone for over three months? He was spending time with well, whoever the soul is now, it had been a while since they had seen each other after all."  
Kali knew what he was talking about; she had been in India at the time, visiting with friends.  
"Tragically, the soul has died in every life they've had together. Loki, being the lovesick fool he is, has waited for the soul to come back every time."

The glass that Kali had been drinking out of shattered in her hands. Loki had never told her any of this. The waiter rushed over to their table.  
"Ma'am are you alright?" he asked, taking a hold of her hand to assess any damage. Kali slapped him away, the young man landed against the wall across the restaurant. Her reaction didn't go unnoticed by the other patrons, they screamed and fled.  
"Do you even know where Loki is, right now?" Odin asked, picking up the bottle to pour himself another glass. "He's probably with that little tart of his right now."

Kali saw red and the temperature in the restaurant shot up dangerously high, causing the emergency sprinkler system to turn itself on. Water fell on the entire restaurant, soaking table cloths, snuffing out candles and generally making a watery mess everywhere. Except where Kali and Odin were sitting. Their table and a ring a few feet wide around it stayed bone dry, the flames of their candles jumping several inches into the air.  
Odin drank from his glass. "Really Kali, is this necessary? I honestly thought you knew."  
"I didn't." Kali growled. She really wouldn't have cared either, if he had just fucking been straight with her from the start. Being lied to sucked.

Kali stood up and walked away without saying good bye. As she walked away, the ring of dryness collapsed and Odin got soaked, until he could conjure one of his own. The water never hit Kali, it turned to steam instantly around her and her footsteps left a trail of charred wood behind her, the glowing embers the only sign she had been there.  
Odin shook his head and finished his glass. "Destruction Goddesses, way too easy." he said to himself and vanished from the table.

Kali returned home in a furious rage, slamming the door behind her so hard, it rattled in the frame, and a crack ran up the wall. Snipping a sprig of mistletoe from the pot on her balcony, Kali stepped back in and watched as it burst into flame in her hand.  
"Loki, get your ass back here, _now_. We need to talk." she said, not bothering to be polite. After a minute or two Loki appeared in the penthouse.  
"You called beautiful?" he asked.  
Kali stepped up to Gabriel. "Who is she?" Kali asked dangerously, running a hand up and down the edge of his jacket's zipper.  
"She who Kali?" Gabriel asked.  
Kali's eyes narrowed. "I suppose I should be asking who _he_ is this time?" she questioned.

Gabriel stared at Kali. What on Earth was she talking about? "Kali, I have no idea what you're talking about. He who? She who?"  
"Don't lie to me. I know you're seeing someone else." Kali snapped, moving away from him.  
"No I'm not." Gabriel said, trying to take her hand. "It's just us."  
Kali knocked his hand away. "Lying, again."  
"I'm not, I swear I'm not."  
"Yes you are. Odin told me all about it. That mortal you've been seeing behind my back."  
 _"Odin talked to her? Wonderful. That's the last thing I need."_ Gabriel thought. "Mortal, what mortal? I haven't seen him in ages." Gabriel said aloud, promptly shutting his mouth afterwards. He never knew when to quit sometimes, but at least now he knew who had been talking behind his back.

"Him? So it _is_ male this time and you were seeing him?" Kali asked snippily.  
"No! That was a long time ago. He's a Hunter, they're made to be fucked with, and you know that."  
"You're fucking him?" she snarled, glaring at him.  
Gabriel shook his head vehemently. "No, _with_ him. The whole university campus thing with the aliens and alligators in the sewer? It's that sort of thing; c'mon you thought it was funny."  
"If I had known that you're little love toy was going to be there, I wouldn't have." Kali replied.  
"I can't win with you, can I? You're being such a crazy bitch tonight, I'd swear you'd lost your mind." he muttered to himself. Gabriel realized then what he had just said. He hoped that Kali hadn't heard.  
"What did you call me?" Kali asked. "You called me a crazy bitch." she accused. Yep, no luck there.

"If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck..." Gabriel shot back, starting to get pissed off with Kali. "You are acting like a crazy bitch over nothing and no one."  
"Don't you _dare_ call me that."  
"What, a crazy bitch?" he asked cattily.  
"Loki!" she snapped. Gabriel swore he could feel the temperature drop and then rise drastically.  
"Crazy..." he began. He had dug his own grave, so he might as well finish it. "... _bitch_!"

At which point, the penthouse exploded. The fire burned so hot that it consumed everything on the penthouse floor and according to the fire investigators, the husband and wife living there, died, their bodies turned to ash. They weren't quite sure what had happened yet, it was possible a gas line had ruptured, but they were lucky most of the force had gone upward. In truth, Gabriel had fled for his life, when Kali got like this it was just best to duck and cover. Kali looked at the blazing inferno she'd created and vanished in a column of fire.


	9. Twenty Questions in South Dakota

**Back in South Dakota**

Dean and Sam were hip deep in John's old journals. Most of the numbers had been kaput and none of them had led to anything. Sam was reading through one when he stopped, setting the book down on the table. "Hey Dean, I think I found something, listen to this." Sam found the spot he had left off and started reading.  
"Tricksters have a love of anything sweet and the God of Tricksters is no exception. Loki tends to like lollipops and chocolate best." John also included a description of what Loki looked like, or what he thought Loki looked like. It matched the Trickster. Sam flipped the pages of the book. "Remember how you said the Trickster was helping Dad?"  
"Yeah. What about it?" Dean asked.  
"Do you remember what he was helping with? Because there's a spell here for calling a protective and friendly spirit in emergencies." Sam said.  
"Really?" Dean motioned for Sam to hand him the book, sipping from the glass he had next to him."And no I don't, sorry." He looked at the spell and the ingredients needed for it. "I'd say that what's currently going on qualifies as an emergency."

All three of them had taken quick showers and gathered the supplies needed for the spell. They had an assortment of weapons on their bodies and hidden in the room, just in case. Candles were set in a circleat the four points of the compass, a ring of salt connecting them. Dean tossed a lit match into the mix of rosemary, thyme, sea salt, and mint sitting on the bowl on the table. It flared as the herbs caught, releasing a pungent scent into the air.  
"We summon you spirit to help and aid us. Be our light in the darkness." he said. "Light our path and be our spark. Help us."  
They waited.

"This better be damn important, I was in the middle of- Oh hell, it's you two idiots!"  
"Loki!" both boys barked, diving for the stakes they had hidden in the room.  
Gabriel snapped his fingers and all three of them froze in the middle of what they were doing. Bobby had been in the process of removing his stake from his jacket, Sam from picking his up from an end table and Dean had been scrambling for the sofa cushions.

Gabriel stepped around them and began to look around. "What have you three mutton heads been up to while I've been gone..." Looking down at the journal, he was able to figure it out pretty quickly. Dean had started to remember his past lives. This could either be very good or very bad. Gabriel sighed, picked up the bottle that was next to a partly filled glass and took a swig from it. He snapped his fingers again and the room was cleared of everything except for the bottle in Gabriel's hand and some chairs, red leather and very comfortable. A third snap brought the three other men back to awareness. Bobby and Sam looked for their stakes and Dean thudded to the floor. Gabriel sat in a chair and hooked a leg over one of the arms.

The three men scrambled for their weapons, coming up with nothing as they quickly looked around. Dean got to his feet, hand automatically going for his gun, Sam and Bobby going for their backup weapons as well.  
"They're all gone guys. I made sure to get rid of the weapons. Sit down, we obviously need to talk." He took another drink from the bottle and waited for them to make up their minds. When they just stood there and looked at him, Gabriel ground out. "I'm not going to hurt you, _you_ summoned _me_ , remember? It's the way the spell works, the wording of it. I have to answer your questions and I can't fuck around with you. You can't fuck around with me either and the worst you could do, is send me away."  
They stayed where they were, warily watching the Trickster.

"I know you guys have questions, mainly you Dean." Gabriel swung his foot from the arm and swished the bottle's contents in his hands. "I'll behave if you do and we can all get through this in one piece."  
Bobby, Sam and Dean looked at each other before pulling the other three chairs closer to them and sitting down.  
"Good. Let's get this party started." Gabriel grinned. "Who wants to play twenty questions?"

Dean watched the creature in front of them, as it made itself comfortable in the chair, bottle of whiskey Dean had been drinking, dangling from its fingertips. He looked different from how Dean remembered as a child, the hair maybe? Or just the way he presented himself? Dean couldn't put his finger on it, but something said that the Trickster was different now.  
"How do we know you'll tell us the truth about anything we ask?" Sam questioned.  
"Considering what's going on, it would behove me to tell the truth." Gabriel replied. He looked at Dean. "You've started to remember. I don't know if I should be happy or scared about that. Or if I should be running like hell right now."  
Sam snorted. "This is all your doing somehow, isn't it? I'd vote for running. What do you get out of all of this anyway?"  
"Shut up Sam, you don't know what you're talking about." The words just burst from Dean's mouth, the need to defend the Trickster overriding his brain for a moment.

Gabriel grinned; it was kinda sweet watching Dean defend him. He was able to take care of himself, but it was still sweet. He looked at Sam. "I'm really tired of hearing you talk Sam. Be quiet." Gabriel snapped his fingers and Sam's mouth disappeared from his face.  
Sam's eyes widened and his hands flew to where his mouth used to be, fingers scrabbling over smooth skin. Sam panicked, trying to talk, his body wanting air.  
"Through your nose Sam, remember?" Gabriel said.  
"Stop it!" Dean shouted. "Bring his mouth back." Sam was breathing, but having his mouth back would be a nice thing.  
"Oh all right, and it was so nice and quiet too." Gabriel snapped his fingers and Sam's mouth was back where it was before.

Dean would have thanked Gabriel, but it was drowned out by Sam swearing at the Trickster instead.  
"You bastard! What the hell was that for?" Sam snarled. "What the fuck do you gain by doing that?"  
"Such a potty mouth. We should wash it out with soap." Gabriel shot back, snapping again and Sam's mouth was filled with soap suds.  
Sam spat and shuddered at the taste, the sudsy mess hitting the floor, his tongue curling in his mouth as it went into over drive with saliva to get rid of the taste.  
Bobby handed him a glass of water. "Rinse your mouth out in the sink, the water will help."

Gabriel sipped from the bottle, he had changed it from whiskey to vodka. "I was serious about the twenty questions. You have twenty questions, I have to answer them truthfully with a yes or no answer."  
"Twenty questions, are you serious?" Sam asked from the kitchen, after spitting in the sink.  
"Yes. And that's one." Gabriel replied.  
"Thanks a lot Sam." Dean called back.  
"Are you fucking kidding me? That was a stupid question." Sam said.  
"No, I'm not. And you're right it was, by the way that's two." Gabriel called back towards the kitchen.

"Wait, two as in that's two questions used or as in that's the second-" Sam asked to ask, coming back into the living room. Dean cut him off by slapping a hand over his mouth.  
"Shut the fuck up Sammy!" he barked. He turned to Gabriel and growled, "And no, do _not_ answer that question, that doesn't count!"  
Gabriel held up his hands, willing to let it slide.  
"Jeeze, can't I get a word in at all?" Bobby asked.  
Gabriel laughed. "Of course Bobby, and that's three."  
"Damnit Bobby!" Dean swore.  
"What? I just wanted to know." Bobby replied.  
"Well you wasted a question!" Dean snapped.  
"Is there something wrong with that?" Sam asked.

"No, there isn't." Gabriel said. "And that brings us to four."  
"That is it!" Dean shouted. "From now on, you two are going to shut up." he pointed at Sam and Bobby. "And you," he said, pointing to Gabriel. "are only going to answer questions when I ask them. I summoned you, so you answer to me, you got that?"  
"Yes. And that's number five." Gabriel snickered.  
"Idjit." Bobby snorted.  
"Shut up Bobby." Dean groaned.

"So, fifteen questions left. Whenever you're ready Dean." Gabriel shifted in the chair and made himself more comfortable.  
Dean sighed, wondering where to start. "Is everything I'm seeing real and not some fucked up illusion created by you?"  
"Yes, it's real." Gabriel admitted. "That's six."  
"Is this going to turn out bad for me somehow? Like death, my brain exploding or being married to you? Dean asked.  
"Oh come on! Is being married that high up to you? Commitment issues much?" Gabriel asked. At Dean's look, he sighed and said, "No. Seven, by the way."  
"No, this won't end badly or no I won't die? Wait, no, never mind. I'll go with no I won't die."  
Dean stayed quiet, thinking of another question. "Why is this happening, why now?"  
"Yes or no questions only Dean.Thirteen questions left." Gabriel replied.  
"Am I immortal?"  
Gabriel laughed, his laughter tinged slightly with bitterness. "No. You're very much mortal. You just keep coming back; you're like a damn roach."  
"A roach? Jeeze, you couldn't compare me to a Twinkie?" Dean said offhandedly.  
"You mean soft, fluffy and full of cream?" Gabriel asked, laughing. "I'll give you that one, just because it's funny."  
Dean groaned internally, he really needed to ask smarter questions.  
"Yeah, you do." Gabriel said, agreeing with him.  
"Stop reading my mind."

"Is there any way to stop this or get rid of it?" Dean drank some of the water that Bobby had brought over.  
"Yes. Twelve left."  
Dean sat and thought, thinking of how to phrase things in a yes or no manner was a lot harder then he'd thought, and all he was coming up with was questions that required actual explanations, not just a short answer. He said as much to Gabriel.  
"I know, and I'm starting to run out of liquor." Never mind the fact that he could keep the bottle going indefinitely if he wanted. "Tell you what, come up with one good super question, and I'll wrap it all up for you. We'll call it even that way."  
"What are these dreams, why am I having them, how do I stop it, why the fuck are you such a dick, and why do I have the urge to punch you or kiss you right now?" Dean asked, the questions spilling from his tongue in one massive knot. "No, wait! I wanna take back that last-"  
"Nope. That's your question." Gabriel said. "Get comfy, this'll take a bit to explain, I think."

"Okay, to answer the first part, I could get all metaphysical and ask you what are dreams? But that's a bit too Carl Sagan for my taste, so we'll just cut to the chase: they aren't dreams, they're memories, memories from past lives."  
"But that's not poss-" Sam started to say.  
"Possible?" Gabriel asked looking at Sam. "Sam, I hate to break it to you, but it totally is, and Dean's remembering them." He looked back at Dean. "As to _why_ you're having them, I'm pretty sure it's because of my ring."  
"Your ring?" Dean asked. "What ring?"  
"The one you're wearing, duh. Gave it to you when you were a kid." Gabriel gestured to the ring on Dean's hand. "I guess I didn't notice how much mojo I had when I remade it into a bigger ring, and after giving it to you, it started to absorb memories, and is now playing them back. As for stopping all of this, hell if I know. You could kill yourself, stop wearing the ring, try and stop loving me, I don't really know that one."

Gabriel took a swig from the bottle. "As for why I'm such a dick, hello, trickster! It comes with the territory, and I'm the God of the Tricksters, so it's more or less double for me. Punching me, I'd chalk that up to some deep issues with your father..."  
"Hey!" Dean snapped, glaring at Gabriel.  
"What? I'm just calling it like I see it. I'd also say that the wanting to kiss me is due to some latent homosexual desires in this life."  
"Not funny." Dean growled.  
"Again, calling it like I see it. Could also be left over from your past lives as well, maybe both." Gabriel said.  
"That's it?" Sam asked. "Are you for real? Hey, I've got a couple of questions for you."  
Gabriel snorted. "Sorry Sam, I don't do pretentious douchbags." He stood up and set the bottle down, it was empty now. "And if that's all, I'm outta here, and that number's out of service." He said, pointing to the spell, snapping his fingers and vanishing.

He didn't go far, Gabriel remained invisible, watching from the air above Bobby's house as the boys came out and walked towards the car. Sam's handy work was still all over the car as the sun glinted off the surface from where it sat in the yard. He hadn't had the chance to wash it off and Dean was inclined to leave it alone for now. Gabriel continued to watch them and felt a cool breeze caress his back.  
"Figured you would show up eventually." he said. "And by the way, thanks for talking to Kali, she'll never want to speak to me again, you asshole."  
Odin stood next to him, equally invisible to the two humans below. "It wasn't going to last anyway and you know it. Much like that one down there won't last for long." He gestured to Dean. "You know you can't protect him, it never works out."  
"I don't need to; it's already taken care of." Gabriel replied.  
"Oh please, _I_ am the All Father, and there is no way that those two are the vessels."  
"They are." Gabriel smiled at Odin. "But feel free to try your luck, we both know that they're wanted by both Heaven and Hell, I highly doubt that either side would want something to happen to either of them."

Odin remained silent, looked at Gabriel and then moved closer to where Sam and Dean were, leaning against the car, deciding what to do. A flash of lightening and a roll of thunder echoed through the sky, both Dean and Sam looked up.  
"What was that?" Sam asked.  
"No idea. Heat lightening, maybe?" Dean said.  
"Maybe."  
Odin looked around, seeing it for the warning it was. Maybe fucking around with the vessel of Michael wasn't such a hot idea after all... If he believed in such things, that is."I'll leave him alone. For now." Odin left to regroup, clearly this was going to be more intricate than before.  
Gabriel continued to watch the boys.

Bobby wound up kicking Dean and Sam out of his house, saying that he wasn't Motel 6 and that he had had enough of their supernatural shenanigans for one day. So they headed into town and got a couple of rooms at the local motel. Sam insisted that his room be a few doors from Dean.  
"In case anything happens later." he said  
"Dude, nothing's gonna happen." Dean argued.  
"Either way, I still want my own room, I'm turning in early." Sam replied, getting his bags out of the trunk.

Dean tossed his bags into his room but he wasn't tired, so he decided to go cruising instead, texting Sam his plans before leaving. Dean drove around town, nowhere in mind, when he saw the neon glow in the distance. Dean headed for it; the town looked to have gotten something new. The neon glow was on the opposite side of town from Bobby's house and Dean grinned as he pulled into the parking lot and saw what it was.

A strip club.

Dean opened the glove box and got out the I.D. box, searching for a fake I.D. and credit card that was still good. Finding both, he got out of the car and walked up to the club. He went inside and was pleasantly surprised when he found out that there was no cover charge.  
"Boss is in a good mood." the door girl said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Enjoy your stay."  
"I will sweetheart, see you later." Dean went into the main area, his attention caught by a leggy brunet with curls to her waist, as she shimmied up a dance pole, wrapping her legs around it and bending backwards, arching her back. Dean settled in to watch the show, ordering a beer from the waitress when she came by.

Dean was enjoying his beer and the girl on stage when he felt someone take the seat next to him.  
"You should see her in her Red Riding Hood outfit, makes this act even better." Gabriel said, snapping up a bottle of champagne and a glass.

Dean spat out his beer.

"Don't waste the booze. I had Cynthia bring you a good one." Gabriel reprimanded.  
Dean slammed his bottle down on the edge of the stage, the liquid frothing and foaming inside.  
"The waitress?" he sputtered. "How do you know the waitress?"  
It would be just his luck if he had wandered into a club that the Trickster liked to go to himself.  
"I own this place." Gabriel replied, drinking his champagne.

Okay, Dean hadn't been expecting that. "Excuse me? You what?" he asked. "You _own_ this place?"  
"Is there an echo in here? Yes, I own this club." Gabriel replied.  
"Why?" Dean asked and felt stupid for doing so.  
Gabriel snorted into his drink as he tried to cover up a laugh. "Because even I need a place to relax."  
"Is this place even real then?" Dean asked.  
"If I want it to be, yes." Gabriel said.

The brunet's song came to an end and Gabriel handed her some money, asking her to send out Carly next. She nodded and left the stage. Gabriel put his glass on the stage and snapped his fingers, freezing time. Dean could feel everything around them just stop where it was.  
"It'll be awhile before she gets here, we need to talk, and not just twenty questions talk." He put his feet on the edge of the stage and gestured for Dean to do the same. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you."  
"Then what do you call everything that happened at the Mystery Spot?" Dean demanded angrily.  
"Fucking around with Sam and trying to teach him a lesson. Didn't do much, your brother is surprising thick headed."  
Dean nodded in agreement, Sam could be completely stubborn sometimes.  
"And while poking Sam with a stick is funny, I wasn't too thrilled to keep hurting you to do it." Gabriel admitted.  
"Could have fooled me. Dying hurts by the way, and a hundred times over, sucks." Dean muttered before picking up his beer.  
"I'm still sorry." Gabriel replied as Carly came out.

Carly did a stage act for two songs and gave Gabriel a lap dance that Dean would deny with his dying breath, was kinda hot to watch. Gabriel smirked and winked suggestively at Dean as Carly began to dance for him.

Around the fourth beer, Dean thinks, he's feeling more relaxed and open to talking to Gabriel.  
"About stopping all of this?" Dean asked. "I don't want to die, and I'd feel kinda naked without the ring. What about stopping Odin?" He drained the rest of his bottle.  
"What about not loving me?" Gabriel countered, noticing that Dean had left that one out.  
Dean snorted in laughter, setting the bottle on the stage with a clatter. "Is that even possible? We tried you not being in my life and look what happened."  
He leaned towards Gabriel as if to tell him a secret. Gabriel did the same and the two kissed. Albeit briefly before Dean pulled back.  
"Sorry. Didn't-" he started to say.  
"Don't apologize. Don't ever apologize for that." Gabriel growled softly before moving in to kiss Dean again.

The kiss went on for several minutes, the girls vanishing and the club becoming silent with a thought from Gabriel. When they pulled away from each other Gabriel smiled.  
"I've been waiting a long time to do that. I'd forgotten what it was like."  
"It was nice." Dean admitted, his mouth totally bypassing his brain.  
"I know." Gabriel kissed him again before whispering. "I like you Dean, always have, and I'm pretty sure I never stopped loving you ever. I hate seeing you like this, I know you'll never stop picking at this, not in this lifetime anyway, so I'm gonna do something for you."  
"What?" Dean asked.  
"This." came the swift reply as Gabriel snatched up the bottle and brought it down on Dean's head, knocking him out cold.

Dean slumped forward, Gabriel grabbing him before he hit the floor.  
"I'm so sorry, but this is the only way. Don't you worry about Odin, I'll deal with him." Gabriel eased Dean onto the stage and slid his ring off. Holding it in one hand, Gabriel stripped it of any traces of his Grace, the lingering bits of gold colored energy being reabsorbed into his body. Gabriel ran a hand through Dean's hair, healing what would have been an impressive bump on his head, and removing all memory of his past lives and his summoning of Gabriel. He then placed Dean in the Impala and took them back to the motel.

Leaving Dean in the car in front of his room, Gabriel quietly snuck into Sam's room, disguised as Dean if Sam woke up. Sam mumbled in his sleep but didn't wake and for that Gabriel was grateful. He waited until Sam was silent once more and removed his memories as well. He resisted the urge to implant some new ones, but just barely, messing with Sam was just fun, but it would tip either one of the boys off if Sam were to mention it. He went back to the car and put Dean to sleep in his own bed, changing the sheets and pillow to a softer thread count. Dean more or less wouldn't notice, but his body would be more rested for it. Dropping a quick kiss on his forehead, Gabriel vanished into thin air, only to reappear seconds later in Bobby's house.

Bobby was sitting at his desk and Gabriel had appeared behind him, Bobby totally unaware. Gabriel quietly sneaked up behind his chair to knock him out, but Bobby beat him to it, slumping over his desk suddenly. The bottle sitting on the desk was the answer as to why. Bobby had drunk himself to sleep again; Gabriel wagered that he did that a lot. He removed Bobby's memories like he had Sam and Dean's and gathered all the information that they had about all of this that he could find. He planned to burn it to make sure that there was no way for any of them to remember what had happened. With a snap of his fingers, every scrap of evidence was set ablaze in the fireplace.

Gabriel watched as the papers burned to ash, along with any possible future, that he might have had.  
"You're doing the right thing." came a voice from behind him and to the left. Gabriel looked up to see who it was. The woman had pale skin and blood red hair pulled to one side. She was wearing a black dress with a dropped waist and the sleeves draped down her shoulders. The angel riding her was Kassandra, one of the lower angels and Gabriel was pretty sure she came from Raphael's garrison.

"It's true. They're the vessels, Dean is Michael's vessel. He doesn't need to be distracted by such a silly thing as _love_."  
Chills ran down Gabriel's spine hearing that. "Do you actually believe that crap that Michael and Raphael spout?" he asked.  
"They are the vessels." Kassandra repeated. "The end must come."  
"I'll take that as a huge screaming yes." Gabriel replied, flicking a hand in Kassandra's direction, and shoving the angel out of the house  
Kassandra landed in the yard, rolling to a stop in the dirt.  
"And since I can't have you running back to them..." Gabriel trailed off as he stepped over to her.

Kassandra scrambled to her feet right as Gabriel wrapped a hand around her throat, pulling her close, sliding his sword between her ribs and into her heart. The blade did its job and another pulse of power from Gabriel vaporized the host body. He checked to make sure the fire had done its job and then left Bobby's house. He reappeared at the motel the boys were staying at and checked on them. Both were sleeping peacefully. Gabriel quietly slipped the ring off Dean's finger and into his pocket before going back outside.

He leaned against the Impala, taking the ring out of his pocket and tossing it in his hands, sighing to himself. The ring settled into the palm of his hand and he crushed it, opening his hand to let the dust fall. Dean wouldn't remember getting it so no one would know it was gone, except for him of course.  
Gabriel, no Loki, it was just Loki now, dusted off his hands and vanished from the parking lot.

The End


End file.
